


Buckaroo Zelenka and the Atlantis Cavaliers

by sian1359



Category: Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across The 8th Dimension (1984), Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-18
Updated: 2010-05-18
Packaged: 2017-10-09 13:37:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sian1359/pseuds/sian1359
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's up to John Sheppard and Team Pretty of the Zelenka Institute for Aerodynamics, Engineering and Strategic Planning to find out what Kolya of the Genii Liberation League wants with the McKay siblings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Buckaroo Zelenka and the Atlantis Cavaliers

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks once more to auburnnothenna for making me read better than I would. Readers probably fo not need to know too much about Buckaroo Banzai to get this story as the universe is pretty self explanatory, but think a modernized Doc Savage if you know that better or even a modern twist on League of Extraordinary Gentlemen -- ie: a group of super heroes without super powers who oppose the bad guys governments can't handle. Also, AO3 did some funky coding and dropped at least one random paragraph that I found -- if you do feel that something is missing or a sentence breaks off in the middle that I didn't catch, please comment and point out where so it can be fixed. Thanks.

"Radek, we've got a priority alert coming out of Canada," World Watch One’s priority squawk cut across the private channel they'd commandeered. John Sheppard eased his foot off the accelerator as his boss, Radek Zelenka, pulled his head out from under the hood where he'd been fiddling with their experimental hydrogen-fueled car's rocket engine.

First wiping his hands to remove the inevitable lube stain, Radek then tapped his earbud. "Continue, Chuck."

"Facial recognition scans off Canadian CCTV has come up with three individuals identified as belonging to the Genii going into Devlin Medical Technologies two days ago," Chuck responded tensely. "When we expanded the search, we also got a partial match on someone who might be Ladon Radim attending the McKay siblings' recent Calgary presentation last week, although his name was not on the membership list."

Radek let slip a stream of Czech and Russian curses, though he made sure he was off mic so that only John got the earful. John silently applauded his creativity, but was fine himself with the old standbys such as bastard or fucker for the likes of Kolya, the self-proclaimed warlord of the Genii Liberation League. _Mother_fucker seemed a little harsh, since by all accounts Kolya's mother hadn't intended to raise her son as a sociopath bent on world domination and destruction. Kolya's excuse that avenging her death was the reason he'd attacked and destroyed Prague was bullshit; John and Radek had also both lost their mothers early in their lives and they hadn't turn into homicidal monsters –

"Thank you, Chuck," Radek then responded back on radio. "Please send the images out with a code three alert to all Pegasus Irregulars in a five hundred mile radius of Calgary, and call a code green alert for the Cavaliers."

"Goddamn Kolya," John commented as Radek helped him slide out the window of the rocket car's cockpit. "Hey, wait a minute," he interrupted himself as he pulled off his helmet. "The McKays are lecturing again?" he asked – accused – Radek upon processing the rest of Chuck's message beyond Genii involvement. If the McKay siblings were presenting again, there was no way in hell that Radek hadn't found that out – in advance enough that he and John could have attended the lecture.

Radek had the grace to look apologetic as he unplugged the leads of his computer and thinkpads from the engine housing. "The surprise announcement came while the virus had you at your worst, John. The memberships sold out within less than an hour. I had Paul and Brendan use ours."

Well, that was just one more thing to hold against Kolya. If John hadn't been near dying, this time at the hands of the not-so-delightful Mara, a 'fan' who'd gotten hold of an irradiated meteorite from Kolya and had 'accidentally' cut him, Radek, at least, could have gone instead of staying nearby while Carson had treated John. (Pretending he actually was a Spiderman knockoff, able to scale walls with his fingers and toes had been cool – for all of about ten minutes; then the real symptoms of the alien virus had kicked in and while John might have eventually adjusted to having blue, scaly skin and yellow eyes, the fact that he'd been in danger of losing all cognitive reasoning had not been worth the tradeoff.)

"I don't suppose it was filmed?" John asked hopefully.

Radek shook his head, his shoulders weighed down by his electronics. "Still, the McKays prove camera-shy. Some manner of baffle was set up so that even the illegal bootleg video came out as snow and its audio replays as_ It's A Small World_."

John gave a small laugh and shouldered his own bag of equipment before following Radek to the nearest trans station and pressing the screen for the Bunkhouse. The brother part of the McKays certainly had the reputation of not suffering fools of any kind and that apparently included people who'd take crappy cell-phone video of an extremely rare public appearances.

"I have asked our people to do up transcripts of what they were treated to," Radek promised. "So far, however, there has been nothing made available and I am loath to insist, despite my own eagerness." He shrugged and John frowned in disappointment.

The Institute not only had the jet car tests upcoming as well as the IOA decision about Atlantis' sovereignty status, but they were also taking the lead in the newest Global Warming conference, with visiting scientists already coming in though the conference wouldn't start until the beginning of the week. Abrams and Gall had likely turned over their notes, but a transcriber and server time would be rather at a premium right now.

"So, you are well enough to take your Strike Team to Canada to investigate, yes?" Radek asked when they popped out of the high speed tram into the residential portion of the compound that made up the Zelenka Institute for Aerodynamics, Engineering and Strategic Planning.

"Right as rain, Radek. Carson's confident the retrovirus is completely out of my system," John reassured him, knowing it wasn't just his return to health that Radek was asking about. Even before this latest incident, John and Kolya had had a grudge against one another beyond everyone's long-standing one for Prague. John wasn't the type to let personal feelings throw him off of his game, however. Nor was it as if all of the Cavaliers didn't take Kolya's continued existence personally, especially after what he'd done to Marshall Sumner.

Radek nodded in apparent satisfaction. "Take Evan's team with you. They can check out Henry Wallace's company while you make the connection with McKays."

Yeah, as if there would be any questions as to who ended up knocking on McKay's door.

"I would join you, but Elizabeth fears that if I do not attend these IOA committee meetings personally, they will only dissolve into petty bickering and international brinksmanship again, with their decision about Atlantis postponed once more."

"Better you than me, Radek." It was probably a character flaw that John would actually prefer a dustup with the Genii than to sit in on _any_ IOA sessions, but what was one more? "Make sure _you_ take Bates' team with you," he added.

"Yes, yes, except it is not I who has a propensity to get into trouble, is it?" Radek chided him good-naturedly as they approached the locker rooms. "You have been shot how many times since joining the Institute? Not to mention Teyla's kidnapping or those two explosions last year? And then there was Ronon's disappearance the first of this year and his evasion of us because he no longer remembered anything of his life other than that someone was looking for him?"

"Hey, you were recently kidnapped too, and _branded_ – "

Radek raised his hand with a gesture that went with his snort of piffle. "By a group of children at our newest youth center as a prank that got out of hand. And the brand was merely indelible paint which has mostly faded." Not that his words and acceptance of what the kids had done stopped Radek from making a self conscious run of his hand through his hair; the stripes the youngest of the kids had added to his hair to go with their 'face paintings' would take even longer to grow out than the remnants of purple and green that still shadowed his hairline.

"Of course, you did not know it was harmless prank and your response was very heartwarming despite my getting shot in the ass with a hobby arrow." And now Radek rubbed that part of his anatomy, though the arrowhead hadn't penetrated more than half an inch into the meat, and there wasn't even a scar to show for it from all accounts.

"I am very grateful you Cavaliers take my protection as your primary duty, though I do wish it wasn't so often to the detriment of yourselves." Radek continued more soberly. "I may have started our Institute, but there isn't a one of you who wouldn't be just as qualified to run things in my place. This is why you were all recruited, John. So my work could continue even if I fall."

"And here I thought you chose me for my mad flying skills and quirky math tricks," John said to try to lighten the mood before he reddened in embarrassment.

Radek gave him a look, then one off toward the lounge and suites that lay opposite the lockers, gym and personal laboratories a little further beyond. He nodded in acceptance of John's maneuvering, that perhaps things were moving in a direction too intense or personal. Only then, his face took on a wicked, pleased cast.

"Yes, those, and your pretty, pretty looks, John," he timed perfectly for their sudden audience, having paid more attention than John to the growing sounds of conversation.

A handful of familiar enough faces, a couple of the permanent support staff along with three or four from the admin side, now all broke into deeper laughter amidst their greetings and, in Larrin's case, cat-calling 'Pretty' and 'Perfect Johnny', as Radek, no doubt, had intended. Larrin and John's one not-so-successful date had not stopped her from continuing to make flirtatious overtures, even though she was no more interested in trying again than John was. In some ways – in the worst ways – the two of them were too much alike to ever become anything more than friendly rivals.

John scowled, even his ears turning red from the not so subtle looks and nicknames, to which Radek only offered his own laughter – but then _his_ nickname in the damn comic books and webisodes (started as a way to help the outside world understand and become comfortable with the Institute and its mission) was only Buckaroo, not _Perfect Johnny_. Horrible codename aside, John’s strike team had been dubbed _Team Pretty_, something for which John had not forgiven Aiden. All of the other strike teams had cool names: _Ulinzi,_ _Letal_ and _Baduk_; foreign terms that defined their teams as defender, lethal and the 'go to' guys. While he, Teyla and Ronon were fucking stuck with Team Pretty.

Before John could frame an appropriate response, someone unknown stepped out from the nearest room to reach for Radek. Considering strangers weren't _allowed_ in the Bunkhouse, John had a moment of panic and reached for the gun he was not wearing as he was still in his heat-resistant coverall, that abortive move then morphing into his own hands on approach to get her away from Radek. Fortunately Miko Kusanagi quickly interposed herself between the stranger and Radek, introducing the woman as one of the visiting scientists for the climate conference. If Miko was working with her, Norina Ledford had already been vetted six ways to Sunday.

Knowing Radek's opportunity to clean-up was now most likely delayed by hours, John caught Miko's eye and gave a nod that conveyed both hello and goodbye as he slid past to continue on toward the locker room and the safety station that held hazardous waste drains like those near the contaminant labs. An incident with spilled hydraulic lube had soaked him from the knees down and he'd need to sluice it off before he could take care of his own clean up.

Once inside, John took his radio earbud out, then took a seat to remove his sodden boots. They and his coverall were more complicated than the flightsuits he’d worn when he'd still been flying for the United States Air Force, so he appreciated the hand Tim Markham offered without John needing to ask. Markham was sporting a rather spectacular bruise across his forearm and, yeah, one just peeking out from the towel that covered his ass when he knelt to work on John's laces.

"Teyla or Ronon?" John asked. His teammates took it upon themselves to regularly beat up on the various security personnel like Markham, under the guise of overseeing the Institute's ongoing physical training programs. Given the placement of the bruise on Markham' ass, John bet it had been Teyla, since she was more apt to prove her skill with fighting sticks in the most humiliating manner possible (at least in John's case). Ronon was all about targets of opportunity though –

"Teyla," Markham confirmed with a grunt; thanks to that faulty hydraulic hose John's first boot came off with a sudden pop, and only after a serious struggle. John reached for the knife he wore at his belt even under the now waist-drapped coverall, and handed it over. The second one's laces were going to need to be cut to get free.

Markham handled the knife like the marine he'd once been (nicknamed Magic for his magic touch with a sniper rifle). "The last I saw Ronon was down in the weapon's lab. He was muttering something about a dream last night, where he'd solved the delivery system problem for that raygun he's trying to engineer."

John thanked him as he stood, and Markham now helped him pull out the various bits of fire-resistant padding. Both of them, like most of the ex-military now involved with the Institute, were just as keen as Ronon to have a weapon that could both stun and kill, but John just didn't see it happening anytime soon, no matter how dementedly inspired Ronon got.  

"If you've not got anything too pressing going on, I'd like you and Stacks stay close to home for the rest of the day, well, for the rest of the week," John amended. "Evan and I are taking teams to check out a couple of things in Canada that may be Genii related, so Bates is going to have to take our place running Elizabeth and Radek's security detail for the trip to Colorado. That will shift _Letal_ to lead on the Climate Conference, and I'm concerned about the Institute's vulnerability with so many of us focused elsewhere."

Markham nodded. He and his partner pulled double duty as part of the island's overall security team, and also as part of the management team for the Institute's outreach youth center over in San Francisco, the same center where Radek had been so recently 'kidnapped'.

"Sure, I'll get a hold of Halling and let him know he's on his own for the next few days."

"Thanks. Oh," John then added as he picked up his own pair of towels from the stand near the showers. "Drop this shit off in the bin for me, will you, Magic?"

Markham rightly answered him with a one-finger salute and turned away to finish with his own preparations, while John stripped out of the rest of clothes and headed into the shower.

The suit and safety gear were gone when John came back out. Markham wasn't waiting for him, but his teammates were; Teyla's own hair was as wet as his from her own clean up. Code Green calls weren't enough to have everyone break off existing research or treated as a recall home like a Code Red alert, but John's team had been on stand down during his recovery and everyone on hand would be checking in with their team leaders or division supervisors after such an advisory, even if they weren't on highalert.

Ronon pushed off from the wall but waited for John and Teyla to take positions to either side of him before heading off toward their shared personal quarters. "You've reassigned us from accompanying Radek and Elizabeth?" he asked, not looking at all unhappy at that prospect.

John nodded. "It's the Genii again. Showing up in Canada this time at a HSPARPA affiliate. Plus Ladon Radim may have resurfaced."

Radim's name earned a deep scowl from Teyla. Teyla had known Radim during college, he'd dated Teyla's research partner back before Radim's fall from grace and eventual recruitment by Kolya and the Genii. Teyla blamed Radim for her friend Sora's corruption, though John figured the seeds had already been there. If any one person's encouragement or enticements had been enough to change Sora's morality, it should have been Teyla's influence winning, not Ladon Radim's.

"We've two possible areas of interest," John filled them in. "So Evan's team is going to investigate the goings on at Devlin Medical where Parrish's credentials should get them in the door without raising suspicions."

The look Teyla shot both him and Ronon at that assignment was part amused and part disappointed, though she didn't voice a disagreement. Even though she was the Cavaliers' most even-keeled member and had brokered as many contracts, agreements and treaties as Elizabeth Weir had, Ronon and John weren't nearly as skilled in hiding their quite sensible disdain for politics and politicians of any kind. So their team rarely took the ass-kissing assignments. Ass-kicking, on the other hand…

"World Watch One has someone they think is Radim, sniffing around the McKays, who apparently gave a new public presentation… " Neither Teyla nor Ronon looked surprised by that announcement and John found his frown returning. He seemed to be the only one who hadn't known.

Teyla and Ronon's research and interests rarely meshed with John's (or the McKays'), yet despite M.R. McKay's own fall from grace as far as the physics world cared, he and his sister, Jeannie McKay Miller, were still the top on Radek's list of people he most wanted to recruit. To date, the McKays were also the only ones who'd ever turned one of Radek's membership offers down. There wasn't a Cavalier who didn't know who the two were, or their disciplines.

"Fine. You can be smug at having one over on me," John groused. They reached home, a set of four suites that all shared a common lounge and kitchen area. Their individual three room suites were used as a bedroom, an office and, in John's case, a room to store his skateboards, his surfboards, and his stable of RC vehicles, those finished and ready to race as well as several in pieces and even design stages. Teyla used her 'hobby room' for meditation, while Ronon appreciated the way the morning light hit his and wrote poetry and screenplays there in his quiet time. In a similar set-up a floor above them, Evan Lorne painted in his third room.

Once their 'front' door closed behind them, Ronon turned toward Teyla. "Isn't the McKay brother John's secret crush? The one who wins in _all_ categories of fuckmarrykill when John plays?"

"I do not have a crush," John protested. "I happen to admire him, sure. They _both_ have incredible minds that are light years ahead of any of us, and I'm including Radek in that us. MR is just the more vocal and… entertaining of the two. Getting a withering personal remark from him was something of a badge of honor back in the day, though some of his peers might have disagreed. He regularly eviscerated just about everyone's published works, and had something personal against DeGrasse Tyson and Tunney, though it was worst with Bill Lee or Sam Carter. Whenever those three ended up in the same room …" John mimed an explosion going off between his hands.

"You have had a chance to see Doctor McKay present?" Teyla asked with a reasonable amount of appreciation.

Though physics wasn't her thing, she knew John, better than almost anybody. Even now, in a place where his own intelligence was appreciated as much or more than his flying abilities or, yes, his innate ability to charm, John normally saved his enthusiasm for the gadgets and the outcomes, rarely the theories and certainly not the presenters. Except for MR McKay and, to a lesser extent, MR's sister Jeannie.

"I did, but even better, McKay disrupted one of my classes," John answered Teyla's inquiry as she glided into the kitchen and started her tea, then stuck her head out far enough to toss John a bottle of flavored water that Ronon snagged out of the air and bogarted half of first, before he passed on the remains John's way.

Typical.

"Back when I was on medical leave before the Air Force decided I wasn't going to make a full enough recovery, they sent me out to JPL so I could also take some courses over at CalTech to finish my second Masters," he continued, sitting down at the nearest terminal. He took a drink while he put in an order for his favorite Gulfstream to be prepped, then sent another message off to Lorne letting him know that they'd meet Team _Baduk_ at the hanger in forty minutes. They probably didn't have to rush quite so fast, but the flight would take a few hours and if they headed McKay's direction first, his team could still put in an appearance before evening, where Lorne's could then spend the night in Vancouver before calling on Devlin Tech bright and early tomorrow morning.

John finished on-line and moved to join Ronon in sorting through and prepping which weapons they were going to take with them. "Jeannie McKay wasn't married yet," he added when Teyla came back out to join them.

"She and her brother were out from MIT at the time, or maybe it was Northeastern then, for one of the anniversary tributes to Feynman. Sam Carter was the guest lecturer for a week of Quantum Behavior within Lorentz wormholes, and MR pointed out her invariant conformal factor was wrong, wrong, wrong from where he'd apparently taken a seat in the back of the hall. He then came down to the podium and started writing over her white board equations with a permanent red sharpie. Things got a little heated, other things got thrown, but by the time the class was over for the day, we all were a little smarter, which even Carter admitted. That contretemps, in fact, was what led McKay to be asked to join the Air Force's Project Doranda."

"Wasn't Project Doranda the one that literally blew up in their faces?" Ronon asked without looking up from the three disassembled hand guns he was checking. "Some sort of super weapon set to change the face of warfare but the only people it ended up being used against was a couple of the scientists working on it?"

John sighed. Ronon's take on it wasn't wrong when all had been said and done, but Doranda hadn't started out that way, not that John had been even peripherally involved at the time. Now the project served as one of the ethics models – and not just at the Air War College – a seminal example of what should have been benign and life-affirming technology being weaponized. One also of egos, on both the science and military sides, getting in the way and the results leading only to failure and death.

"Yeah. One research assistant died before Doranda was shut down, and one of the leads, Ben Kavanagh, committed suicide over his own involvement," John acknowledged, starting in on taking his own weapons apart, taking solace in the routine.

He still didn't like to think about Doranda; it was too easy to empathize with _both_ sides if you ignored the ending. Had the project worked, it _would_ have revolutionized warfare. And any weapon that could lessen even one casualty while winning a war was something worthy of being pursued. The math of it had been so fucking elegant too. The physics had been beyond his understanding – beyond even McKay's it had turned out – or something about the exotic material they'd been trying to harness hadn't followed the physics though that wouldn't have been something ninety-nine scientists out of one hundred would have predicted. Frankly, that there had only been a couple of casualties turned out to be something of a miracle.

"Carter's career and reputation survived the failure only because while she'd recruited the top people involved, she was working a different project at the time Collins was killed. With Kavanagh taking the coward's way out, McKay was stuck as the fall guy. He wasn't only fired, he was also nearly prosecuted, though in the end the Brass decided only to pull all of his government funding – in perpetuity." 

"Jeannie McKay was lucky not to be tarred with the same brush," Teyla observed as she curled up between John and Ronon. She carried a handgun herself on most missions, but her preferred weapons were two bantos rods, along with her expertise in _Tahtib_, _Pao Chang Dao_ and _Bushido_. She also didn't have the same compulsion to take apart her gun before a mission that Ronon and John did, and she trusted them both enough to let one of them recheck hers after she'd already serviced it, if they needed to extend their personal routines.

"A lot of people wondered if McKay was ghostwriting for his sister after that, until she was called in about the Mars _Prometheus_ project and pretty much single handedly saved the ship from ending up in Andromeda galaxy instead. Needless to say, she lost her naysayers then since her calculations were done on the fly."

Teyla frowned. "As she should have, though they were undeserved in the first place."

"Hey, don't blame me," John frowned back and held up his hand. "I'm _family_, not patriarchy."

That earned him a brief hug before Teyla bounded back up. She might not use the routine of cleaning weapons, but she had her own demons that if she couldn't meditate, kept her moving with undirected energy. "Jeannie retired soon after the _Prometheus_ incident, right?" she asked as she moved into her front room far enough to pick up her go bag. "Started her family?" her raised voice continued.

"Yeah, though the daughter wasn't born for a couple more years," John answered in kind as he finished up with his gun and started for his own duffle. "And McKay apparently created _Stargate_ during those same years."

"I've played that," Ronon commented, cleaning up after himself too. "The alien poetry sucked and the overall plot wasn't anything original, but the game play and character interaction was fantastic."

Fantastic wasn't quite the word for it; all of the game critics and even a few highly placed government officials who, after Doranda, wouldn't have given McKay the time of day until the game's release had all agreed. _Stargate_ made _Myst_ look like a children's pop-up book. It had a computer AI interface that had had more than one government looking into recruiting him, but, of course, McKay would have nothing to do with the people who'd chased him out of physics. Or with anyone else in the world save for his sister's family – up until his recent public reappearance.

John wondered who they'd be meeting in Canada, Doctor M.R. McKay, or Rodney McKay, computer geek. He tried very hard not to think about which one he more _wanted_ to meet.

************

Because he was a fair guy, John turned the piloting duties for the Gulfstream over to Evan halfway in. Heading into the back cabin, he found Ronon and the rest of Evan's team playing cutthroat poker, though Parrish turned his cards in when John took up a seat across from where Teyla meditated, to go forward to keep Evan company.

"Have any of Chuck's people been able to get a hold of the McKays to let them know we're coming?" John asked around a yawn.

While he loved flying and had done it for hours with next to no breaks during Air Force and UN missions all over the world, this baby was so easy to pilot that he'd been having difficulty in remaining alert. Yes, Carson had declared him to be mutant virus free, but only two days previously, and it took a lot out of a body, having its DNA and RNA rewritten – twice. His being off duty for nearly three weeks had also fouled the rocket car schedule, so the build team had been putting in eighteen hours for those last two days trying to get things back on track in time for the timing trials. Of course, this new diversion was going to set them back even farther.

Teyla shook her head. "As we have suspected, there is no phone directory listing for MR or Rodney McKay. There has been no answer to the phones listed for Jeannie and Kaleb Miller, either. Chuck is still working on the Canadian authorities to run an alias search, but undoubtedly we will arrive on the estate long before Chuck proves successful." Teyla suddenly grinned. "Doctor McKay named his estate Stargate Command. It is a replica castle, modeled on the Hatley Castle in Victoria. The locals call it the SGC."

"Jesus, from his computer game?" Kevin Cole asked from his seat next to Ronon at the poker table.

Teyla's grin widened when she nodded, at once looking more like one of the teenaged street urchins she had a habit of finding and then fostering every time she went back home to Tanzania. John couldn't help responding to it with one of his own for a moment, although he couldn't hold onto it for his next question.

"What about additional sightings of Kolya's people?"

Another shake of her head conveyed the bad news. "A team of Irregulars have been tasked to keep an eye on the SGC, but that has only been in the last few hours. So far no one but the mailman and a freight delivery truck have gotten inside since we put eyes on the place. Part of the difficulty is that the estate is nearly a hundred acres and while it is fenced and has an elaborate security system we can assume Doctor McKay designed himself, there may be holes in his – or our – net."

"Who is the point man for the Irregulars?"

Teyla didn't need to consult her notes, her memory was probably better than anyone else's at the Institute save for maybe Ronon, both of them having grown up in cultures more reliant on oral traditions than the written word.

"A local, Malcolm Barrett. He is a member of the Canadian Security Intelligence Service who also acts as part of the local sheriffs when needed and when at home. A good and trusted man by all accounts."

Not the worst news. Most of the volunteer network Radek relied upon for information in a world under threat of the likes of the Genii were merely eyes and ears, in place to observe with little call to render more than local intel on where to go for supplies or recommendations on who could be counted on if the shit hit the fan. In a few instances, like this one, an Irregular might be called upon to enact more hands on, although under most circumstances once a strike team arrived, they faded back. If Barrett was a local LEO, however, John wouldn't feel as guilty about keeping him near the front line.

"Officer Barrett has already forwarded reports about the two drivers, that both have been working for their respective carriers for over twenty years," Teyla offered before John thought to ask. "While we can assume they are not in the active employ of the Genii, there is always the possibility they could have been compromised, so I have asked for more in-depth checking."

John gave a nod to show he agreed with Teyla (and Barrett's) assessment, then a hand gesture to indicate for her to continue. It was Teyla, she always had more intel.

Teyla tipped her head in acknowledgment. "Kaleb Miller was observed heading over to University at thirteen thirty, then returned at fourteen-fifty, after a stop for groceries. We did not have the personnel on site to follow him into town, so contact could have been made, though he has not been acting abnormally, suspiciously or fearful now that he has returned home. Half an hour ago, Jeannie Miller was followed as she drove to pick up their daughter, Madison, from a local school that it appears Madison attends only for half days. I would imagine she is being home schooled for her education, and participates locally for the social interaction with her agemates. Again, there was no outside contact made other than some of the children and their parents, who we are crosschecking for Genii involvement."

John frowned. Even attending public school for half a day made Madison Miller vulnerable, no matter how well the school's stranger policy was enforced. Kolya was exactly the type to take a kid to use to coerce a parent into working for him. "If Kolya – well, Radim – is sniffing around, we'll need to suggest that Madison be kept a home for a few days until we can determine why Radim is nearby. Ideally, I'd prefer to move the whole family to Atlantis, but somehow I don't see McKay cooperating. Hell, I'm not even sure he's going to let us on the property to explain why we want him and his family to trust us."

"Trust must always be earned, and I, too, fear that his recent public appearance aside, he is not a man who is cooperative even when it is in his own best interest," Teyla agreed. "He has been mistreated and betrayed by many people."

"He also is an adult who well understood the consequences of his ego and arrogance," John felt the need to point out even though he did have sympathy for McKay. "His potential employers were laid out for him long before he decided on his first major, and none of what happened subsequently should have come as a surprise to him, even if the failure of the last project wasn't been his fault. Government and defense contracts obey certain rules just like the laws of physics."

"I would think you out of anyone, John, understand that no matter what you think you know or intellectually understand about bucking the rules and the subsequent consequences, it is not until you are _facing_ those consequences that you find yourself believing they will happen to you."

It wasn't any easier to hear with an expression of sympathy over chiding, though John graciously nodded the point to her favor since her statement was irrefutable. Nor could he blame her for bringing up, since he'd sounded sanctimonious even to his own ears . Everyone knew that the Institute hired the best and brightest from any number of disciplines. Radek also had a habit of finding those who were considered strays and misfits – even fuck-ups. John Sheppard had been lucky Cavalier thirteen (disgraced, though not dishonorably discharged) after bucking the United States Air Force.

Even now he felt a pang when thinking about his 'voluntary' separation. He had no major regrets, either for joining the Air Force in the first place, or for disobeying orders. His consequences had been a choice of a formal reprimand along with reassignment to the back end of the world, a reduction in rank and responsibilities though he could remain on active, front-line duty (a dead career in either case), or agreeing to leave the military with no reprimand and intact rank and benefits, though he'd been one year shy of his twenty. While John didn't need the benefits, he appreciated that he didn't have a black mark or a court martial proceeding on his record. He was pretty sure Radek would have approached him anyway, as he wasn't the only defrocked military in the Institute (like Bates, who'd been court marshaled while a Marine for shooting his own CO, who'd happily been committing atrocities against the locals they were supposed to be defending), but still...

"Were you able to find out if McKay had any bodyguards or on-site security personnel?" John got them back on track after taking another a slow sip of water.

Teyla graciously allowed the shift in subject even though for years she’d been trying to get John to open up about what had happened in Afghanistan – even more than Kate Heightmeyer sometimes pushed during after-mission psych checks.

"I have found no employment contracts, tax records, or accounts and bragging of anyone being hired to work at the SGC except for a handful of gardeners and cleaning personnel over the years. They could double for security, but none of those employees have any law enforcement, security or military background, and they do not live on site." Finally, Teyla was forced to look at her notes.

"Doctor McKay once hosted a dinner party where his sister’s pregnancy was celebrated, and yes, that was fully catered, including valets for parking, but that was just after his sister and her husband moved to the SGC, seven years ago." She then shrugged and opened the panel that revealed one of the computer access points, before pushing a few buttons.

"Chuck did manage to come up with the initial architectural plans for the compound. As I mentioned the household is based on the Hatley Castle in Victoria, with certain modifications as you can see."

A 3-D, holographic rendering of those plans sprang up between them. "Unfortunately these plans are eight years old and while there is some record of further construction work being done on the grounds, whatever plans might have been filed for city permits for those changes have gone missing."

"Genii work?"

"I do not think so." Teyla shrugged.

"Weyburn has a population of ninety-five hundred people according to its last census, and its municipal airport cannot accommodate our Gulfstream which is why we are flying into Regina. I have already made arrangement to have a rental helo waiting on hand to get from Regina to the SGC – or at least Weyburn if we are denied permission to land." She blinked and smiled a little wryly in recognition of going off topic again.

"Because they have such a small tax base, Weyburn also has a very small planning budget. So when they needed to computerize their records, they looked locally, and guess who wrote the necessary software for them?" She smiled more naturally this time. "I imagine that Doctor McKay removed the records himself, through a backdoor he installed in the software. Or, perhaps that was part of his payment for services rendered; greater privacy. Chuck has not been able to pull up his electrical or water consumption records either."

"Paranoia or prudence?"

"Probably a bit of both." Teyla smiled softly, reaching up to cover Ronon’s hand that now rested on her shoulder.

It was Ronon's turn to study the rendering. Kevin Cole and Steve Miller had stayed in their seats, but the poker game was over and they were also paying attention to Teyla’s presentation.

"No windows on the bottom floor and only three exterior doors for a building that’s what, fifteen thousand square feet?" Ronon observed. "Well, a fourth door through the smaller garage access," he pointed a thick, blunt finger at the leftmost, single-story, squat building that the satellite imagery indeed showed being used as a garage. "No visible interior access through the larger, detached garage … unless there’s some sort of underground tunnels. So he’s protecting himself from intruders at the expense of potential fire or other structural dangers."

Teyla called up additional data on the computer screen. "The SGC is seventeen hundred square feet; two hundred by eighty-five, with the tower in the middle being eighty feet high, all of which is just shy of the progenitor castle. Only three thousand feet smaller than the Institute," she pointed out.

Not that the two structures looked remotely similar, John observed as Teyla brought up photographic imagery to interface with the floor plan rendering. Stargate Command stood three stories overall, with the five or six story central tower that had what looked like an observation dome on the top instead of a creneled turret. Comprised of stone and brickwork, it even had the requisite ivy or some other plant creeping up its sides, giving it an appearance of being much older than its seven plus years.

In contrast, the Institute was something that more deserved a name such as Stargate Command, being a Syd Mead or Frank Lloyd Wright meets the endgame of Sim City, with a futuristic, if miniature, cityscape. Built from glass and metal, it held slim towers and odd geometric shape buildings that were all interconnected through walkways and the horizontal as well as vertical elevators transportation system, things that normally would only be found in Hollywood’s collective imagination – or in a video game. The Bunkhouse was part arcology/bio-dome, part condo/home of the future. No flying cars yet, although the rocket car going full out almost felt like flying.

"The city of Weyburn sits nearly two thousand feet above sea level and at the headwaters of the Souris River," Teyla continued with pertinent intel. "Doctor McKay’s compound covers just under one hundred acres, starting seven kilometers southwest of town. His land was previously level fields of agricultural crops, primarily wheat. The entire county lies on the northern edge of the Williston Basin, which is comprised of oil, coal, potash, salt and limestone, so there is a possibility of natural caverns that could have been converted," she acknowledged Ronon’s speculation of underground access.

"The area in general should be structurally stable enough for building some kind of underground complex, but I would think that flooding, water seepage and the cycle of snow and freezing would make working in an underground building… uncomfortable, and expensive," she added even though John doubted expense would have been much of a consideration for a man with McKay's wealth and connections. From all accounts, the entire construction had been the definition of a rush job, taking only two years from design to ground breaking to moving in his family.

"There are no records of underground facilities," Teyla concluded. "But, as I told John, the city permits and architectural records on the property are no longer accessible."

She started typing while John and Ronon further studied the three-dimensional layout she brought back up. John tried to figure out if Rodney McKay was the type to build an underground lair – who was he kidding, of course McKay was! The man was a cross between the clichéd mad scientist and Bruce Wayne; was someone who might be the smartest man in the world, but who couldn’t work in his field. Who could only publish in partnership with his sister and, therefore, had to feel underappreciated and betrayed by those who should be falling over themselves to be handing him grants and awards. To a man with that motivation, one who grew up with the same influences John had: super-hero comics, James Bond and Star Wars…

While John didn’t have any indication to think that McKay had embraced the Evil Overlord viewpoint like Kolya and Ladon Radim had, for instance, there still had to be part of the associated tropes that McKay would have found appealing.

John sighed. "Well, hopefully, we’ll just be able to walk up to the front door, knock, and get an audience with the Great and Powerful McKay. But we also can’t count on our own reputations to mean anything, not even Radek’s, so we might have to get… creative."

Supposedly Radek had made an overture to Rodney McKay in the dark days after McKay had lost his career and reputation, and the resultant argument and name calling had been prodigious. Jack O'Neill had actually threatened to quit, according to even the official reports, should Rodney McKay became part of the Institute. All long before John's time and something Radek probably should have revisited before their current circumstances. No matter how pissed off or accusatory McKay would have been back then in his hurt and anger, the slight of never being courted again would be what stayed with him, making today's meeting all the harder.

"I imagine our best bet would be to convince Jeannie or Kaleb Miller of the danger first," Teyla mused. "No doubt we would just need to remind them of the unfortunate and already proven reality that Kolya will not recognize the sanctity of a young child as a non-combatant."

John nodded. "Ronon, protecting Madison will be your top priority," he started laying out responsibilities. "If the Genii show up when we’re there, get her away no matter what else is going on. If you can get either of her parents out too, great, but I do not want that child being used as leverage against anybody." He drummed his hands against the side of his water bottle and turned to Teyla next. "Teyla, you should probably stay at Jeannie’s side, since she’s nearly as smart as McKay and has to be just as much of a target. I’ll take McKay, and we’ll have to hope that Kaleb can keep up with one of us."

"Are you sure you want us to head on to Devlin?" Miller asked.

John nodded. "There’s too great a chance that Kolya’s more interested in the advances Devlin will be introducing over the next year, assuming he and Wallace aren’t already working together. The one thing we need to make sure stays out of Kolya's hands is any sort of biological weapon. We’ll have back-up from the local Irregulars, and can call in the CSIS formally if we have to. Or, hell, the Mounties."

"You need to make sure you get your own back-up too," John then directed even though it wasn’t his call.

Each strike team was independent unto itself, with the team leaders considered equals, even if John was technically in over all charge of the Cavaliers. Before Marshall Sumner's death, John hadn't been one of the ones Sumner looked to for quasi-military actions; he'd come aboard only as an aeronautics engineer, not for his former experience as member of the US Air Force – no one but Radek had actually known the details about John's military experience. At least until Evan Lorne came to the Institute, roughly a year after John. A former Air Force major himself who'd served under John for a memorable campaign over Iraq, it was because of Evan's deference that suddenly the rest of the ex-military started to look to John as they had Sumner – even Eugene Bates, who had responsibility for the Institute's internal security.

John had been appalled as well as flattered; there were many reasons he'd been recommended to leave the Air Force beyond the incident in Afghanistan; his inability to understand the 'big picture' or make the hard call for sacrifice being chief among them – along with his unwillingness to advance his own career at someone else's expense. He'd never thought his superiors had been all that wrong in that part of their reluctance to keep him in. He could make the hard calls, of course, but he certainly hadn't wanted the paperwork or the reduction in field work that came with bigger commands. Being the lead of his flight crew had been command enough.

Now, though, John wasn’t above using the deference the others gave him, when it came to reinforcing his concerns for the others’ safety.

"While I’ll be happy to have either team take Kolya out, I’m expecting you guys to keep Evan focused on the mission over payback."

Evan had taken Kolya’s most recent attempt on John’s life more personally than John had, even though Evan had had his own mission to oversee when the incident had happened. Or maybe not 'even though', but _because_. That Evan took his team's constant rescuing of John and Team Pretty in the comic books as gospel, so when he wasn't able to in reality, he felt as if he'd failed.

"We will," David Parrish responded, looking quite resolute as he returned to the back cabin in time to hear John's concerns. Like Teyla knowing John, Parrish knew things about Evan that probably Evan didn't even know, so John and Evan's old relationship had to be something they'd discussed now and again, maybe even as pillow talk. Parrish had never shown jealousy over John for having known Evan first, had never withheld his own friendship for a potential rival, not that Evan or John were interested in reforming anything but their friendship. Too many years, too many miles, and way too much baggage under that bridge.

Parrish continued on to the cabinets and cooler stocked with food and drink, picking up a couple of cans of soda before giving John a salute and returning to the cockpit. While Parrish was as close to a pacifist as any of the Institute's members, he could shoot straight, and as a field agent he could be relied upon to take the necessary action, even if it went against his personal wishes. Everyone at the Institute had to learn to handle themselves physically, both in defensive hand-to-hand combat and in small arms fire.

Teyla served the same function on John’s own strike team; the calm influence to his (and Ronon’s) occasional rashness – and ruthlessness.

"Stop worrying," Ronon grumbled upon taking a seat next to Teyla. He pulled the keyboard over into his lap and in seconds the rendering of Stargate Command disappeared to be replaced with Ronon’s current Sims2 set up. John exchanged a look with Teyla, who flushed with just the barest hint of red over her partner’s behavior, even if she might have agreed with his sentiment that John brooded unnecessarily.

John didn’t care if they thought he was overreacting. His team and friends were family as far as he was concerned – were more important (and closer) than family – and he appreciated the opportunity to be able to care about them, even if he got teased in return.

It did look like the briefing was over, however.

John finished his water bottle and settled deeper into the corner of his seat and the plane’s bulkhead before letting his attention be taken up with Ronon’s game. Ronon’s Sims looked like real people, a mix of co-workers and public figures, but instead of the background being the Atlantis Institute and the real world, his game took place on the Starship _Atlantica_ out from the planet Sateda, and the Genii were rather outrageous and deadly aliens.

"John, perhaps you should take advantage of the time we have remaining and get in a cat nap."

He thought of protesting that he didn’t need to, that he was fine, but as he hadn’t tracked Teyla moving from her seat to kneel in front of him and take the empty water bottle from his hand before she spoke, he figured she was probably right. While he’d been cleared for full duty, with his mind and strength nearly one hundred percent restored, his full stamina hadn't returned yet. Nor his patience for just sitting around and waiting, not that he ever had much of that.

Teyla removed a pillow from one of the compartments, along with a light blanket. John let her fuss; normally he’d feel embarrassed, especially in the presence of another strike team. But once you almost turned into some sort of bug in front of all of your friends, falling asleep in front of them no longer seem to matter.

******

It was the change in the engine pitch and speed of the plane that woke John. He stretched and automatically evaluated the plane’s performance to make sure a problem hadn’t awoken him, but it was just Evan beginning their final approach, soon confirmed over the intercom. As the others started putting away whatever they’d been involved in for the last couple of hours, John folded the blanket and tucked it and the pillow away before regaining his seat and buckling his seatbelt.

A flawless landing, as expected, and once the plane finished taxiing, John and Ronon unlocked the cupboard and began removing the weapons that would need to be vetted and acknowledged by the authorities. Teyla and Parrish began sorting the paperwork: the passports and declarations, the permits for the weapons and the letters of authorization to act from the American and the Canadian governments, plus the charter from the IOA that sanctioned their humanitarian efforts in the IOA's name. Cole and Miller started dividing the luggage since Evan’s team would be remaining on the plane and head on to Vancouver and Devlin.

Team Pretty’s luggage was simply a couple of backpacks, one laptop bag and one duffle in addition to their weapons case; they were not intending to stay, assuming they could convince the Millers and McKay to come with them. In case it did take persuasion, they each had a couple of changes of clothes and the necessary toiletries and distractions with them. Baruk’s own investigation would almost certainly take at least a week, thus they'd packed a couple of real suitcases to go along with their carryalls and multiple computers. Everyone also checked over their weapons of choice, and everyone on both teams had sidearms and the ammunition to participate in a sustained firefight if need be. Ronon had also brought his favorite sawed-off shotgun, while John, Evan and former Marine Sergeant Kevin Cole, also had sniper rifles.

The authorities were a little worked up over the extent of the fire power being brought in, but the senior member of the vetting team signed off on the Authorizations to Act on Canadian soil after a few raised eyebrows and a condescending sniff or two. John made sure to keep the grin he wanted to offer in return behind a mask of solemnity; pissing off a few COs was one thing, but here the consequences could mean a family's lives if he pissed the CBSA off enough to get their authorizations revoked.

Leaving Parrish to finish with the CBS agents, John quickly stepped into the cockpit for one last check with Evan, then he and his team grabbed up their equipment and followed the authorities out before hopping onto the waiting tram for a quick drive over to the Bell 212 helicopter (the Canadian's called it a Ch-135) that Teyla had arranged for the next part of the journey.

As smooth and effortless as it was to pilot the Gulfstream and other fixed wing craft – as cool as it was to test the rocket car – John’s first love had been and still was helicopters. His first experience in the air had been in the helo his father owned to fly from their home in Virginia to his office in DC. John didn’t have many happy memories of growing up, but every minute he'd spent with his father’s pilot counted as some of the best. It had been similar while he’d been in the Air Force; despite all of the messed up shit he’d experienced, being in the air had allowed him to compartmentalize and get past the bad or failed missions in ways no appointed psychiatrist could equal or grasp.

This time around, while John needed be concerned over what they might face, he had his team with him. Despite Kolya remaining at large, the bastard had constantly and consistently been thwarted from his ultimate goal and there was no reason to suspect this would be the time he won. So John accepted his .9mm shoulder harness from Ronon with nary a twitch and slung it on as Ronon and Teyla took their own seats after storing the baggage, before letting his mind fall into the routine of pre-flight checks and committing his flight plan to memory. Regina and Weyburn were roughly one hundred kilometers apart, with Weyburn being almost three hundred kilometers from Minot AFB, home of the 91st Missile Wing, where for one year he'd flown the military equivalent of the helo he was in now.

God, he'd hated fucking North Dakota and the never-ending cold, though the solitude of all of that snow had been pretty awesome.

Teyla took the co-pilot seat. Although the flight wasn't long enough to consider switching off, she could take over in an emergency, as she had a student's pilot license for rotors. This arrangement also gave Ronon his needed leg-room as well.

"Have you received Barrett's GPS position?" Ronon's voice rumbled over the headsets they'd all put on to combat the noise from the rotors.

John tuned them out as he finished his pre-flight. His job was to get them from point A to B in the air while Ronon or Teyla took care of the ground stuff. He was more concerned with where the Genii might be hiding than the Irregulars, anyway. Barrett would have tipped them to the local underworld suddenly becoming active on Genii behalf – or twigged to a handful of strangers suspiciously hanging around such a small town over the last week. Because that intel hadn't been offered, Radim was either hiding deep underground, or had already come and gone. And the only way the Genii would be gone, was if they'd already co-opted local talent to run the op for them, or already had their hook into one of the McKays.

If it was just the local yokels, John wasn't too concerned. Their own comm systems were pretty much hack proof, and even if the Genii operatives were monitoring Transport Canada and tracking border crossings, he could easily be a Huey heading back to Minot; Stargate Command was more or less along such a flight path. By the time they realized the helo was landing instead of going on, they wouldn't have an opportunity to call for back-up.

Assuming McKay would listen to reason, of course. Otherwise, the Genii would have time to mobilize their local assets. Then they could be looking into some kind of siege, or getting a SAM up the tailpipe when John tried to fly them out.

Speaking of SAMs and tailpipes…

"Flight time should be thirty minutes, give or take," John let the other two know as he began their ascent. "Teyla, have we gotten a better idea of the physical security set-up? I'd like to think the Canadian authorities would frown on him having SAMs as part of his anti-intruder system, but if he can keep us from landing on the property in some manner, we're going to need more back-up from the Irregulars to keep our ride home secured while we hike in."

John's intent was to put them down directly in the driveway/courtyard in the front of the compound; satellite imagery had shown there was plenty of room. The only other paved surface on the property was a narrow roadway bisecting it more or less north to south. What had looked liked a packed dirt road quartered the rest of the grounds and, yeah, he could set down on part of that too – or even on one of the more dicey areas that the gardeners had allowed to return to its natural state, but that would involve the same type of effort that landing outside the compound would, at least as far as trying to move a family while potentially under fire.

"Apparently there is some sort of sonic shielding in place to augment a more standardized low-level shock field surrounding the property," Teyla reported back after a few minutes where she'd gone off the helo's internal comm system. "It turns back the larger predators and is of a frequency that also puts humans on edge, according to Agent Barrett. Anyone who doesn't bother to check-in with the household for the field to be turned off at the same time they're let through the gate, ends up with a massive headache, just before they pass out. A couple of parents have tried to bring suit when their children were found in such a state, but Doctor McKay pointed out he could have legally shot them for trespassing, so the stun field has been ruled more humane."

"Terrific," John muttered more to himself. "It must have a short radius out from the posts; otherwise the family would be affected themselves," he then spoke back into his own mic.

He saw Teyla nod in his peripheral vision, though she also answered directly.

"Yes. A distance of seventy-five yards is what Agent Barrett reports although he is unclear whether the generating field extends further on a vertical axis than the horizontal. He suggests that he makes direct contact with the people inside just before our arrival. While such a move may precipitate an encounter with the Genii, it would only be a few minutes before our own arrival does the same. He is confident his people can hold off any aggressive actions for those few minutes until we are on scene."

John didn't like the thought of non-combatants getting so directly involved, but something needed to be done, and it wasn't as if Chuck had had any luck in making contact. Barrett shouldn't be turned away…

"Yeah, have him proceed."

Barrett's subsequent report of the Millers being home and willing to receive the Institute's visit, but McKay being absent, was not what John wanted to hear.

"Mr. Miller states that Doctor McKay has been absent for the last two days," Teyla reported.

Well, that explained why Barrett had assumed he was still in the compound; McKay had left before the Institute had twigged to the potential Genii threat.

"He is working offsite with a research consortium that he has been consulting with over the last year. They are apparently in the final stages of their project and he expected to be there for the rest of the week," Teyla continued. "Mr. Miller is concerned enough to suggest that his wife breaches Doctor McKay's personal computer system and copy all of the pertinent files for our review, on the off chance the consortium is a Genii front, hoping that we will be able to identify them as such from the notes or correspondence. I will contact Chuck to have Mr. Woolsey draft a non-disclosure, non-competition contract to be faxed with Radek's signature, on the assumption Doctor McKay's current work is not being done with the Genii."

John fucking loved his team. No matter what might come up, one of them always had it covered

"Apparently, while Doctor McKay does have a registered cell phone under the name of Meredith Ingram, he has not taken it with him," Teyla continued sharing the information Barrett was managing to extract. "Mrs. Miller is concerned, yet cautious about calling him on the landline of the laboratory until we are certain of his safety. She is suggesting that she pack a bag for her brother and that we simply continue on to the lab once we've evacuated her family. Additionally, she is requesting that Agent Barrett or some other of the Irregulars set up inside the compound during our departure. They are expecting an important delivery in the next couple of days for young Madison, though I also imagine that she is concerned that the Genii may decide to retaliate for losing their opportunity. Do you think that Laura would be willing to bring up her crew and conduct their two week survival/nature retreat here? The outlaying areas of the compound are wild enough to offer a suitable environment and Laura could maintain her base camp alongside Agent Barrett, then take over when he must return to his own duties."

"Sounds good to me," John responded, over the laugh that Ronon offered.

Ronon had been planning to help out for a portion of the month long session.

John's instruments began picking up a spike in electromagnetic emissions. He tilted them enough to get a visual on the ground below and could make out a string of posts that no doubt belonged to McKay's high-tech security fencing. While he normally would have scouted out the entire property before landing, so far there'd been no peep from the Genii, and John would just as soon get in and out before that changed.

"We're here."

Again his instruments registered a ripple of energy fluctuations beyond normal background radiation, but he had no sense of difficulty, sonic or otherwise as he directed his bird over the security fields. This part of the property was fallow land, probably remnants of the original wheat crop, while ahead of them lay a copse of trees, firs and other evergreens that created a greenbelt and wind break around where John suspected the main buildings lay. He kept flying thee hundred yards above the terrain until the buildings were in sight, then slowly began descending.

John had a momentary sense of déjà vu as he brought them lower, better forgotten memories of his childhood taking over. He flew every chance he could at the Institute, but Atlantis had its own small airport, complete with runway and helo pad. While part of the Air Force, he'd landed on any number of flat fields or ruined concrete, but the environment around those LZs had also been in keeping with the situation, Afghani hills or bombed out Iraqi villages. He'd never landed on someone's property like this before, though he'd been a passenger during such, many times. In a lot of ways, MR McKay was just like Patrick Sheppard, owning so much property not because he needed too or because it was useful and necessary, but instead just because he could.

John didn't begrudge the money McKay had made, nor was it as if McKay wasn't philanthropic though instead of a foundation like Bill Gates, McKay annually funded thousands of full scholarships and science grants according to everything that John read. Nothing about owning such a compound was _wrong_ or particularly even selfish; McKay had taken in his sister's family after all. Still, the… excess of it all was disturbing.

John had gotten used to traveling light, first in the military and even now at the Institute, where he'd only brought with him his guitar, his skateboard and an MP3 player full of Johnny Cash and other classic country and rock music. He'd found no reason to subsequently add to his belongings, other than those things he needed in doing his job. With his pension and, yes, an inheritance still sitting in trust, most of the salary he drew now went back into his projects and to his own preferred charities. The thought of spending enough money to buy his own castle, well, even though he probably _could_ amass that much if he worked at it a little harder, was almost distasteful.

He wondered how Madison Miller felt growing up in such surroundings; for a while John had had his brother Dave to share their father's estate, plus there had always been the horses and a few of his father's staff who had treated John like he'd been their own kid whenever dear old dad hadn't been around. From what intel they had so far on McKay and the Millers, Madison had only her parents and her uncle rattling around in the seventeen thousand square feet castle. No doubt half of the premises were off limits to Madison, if not more, though John also doubted that Madison observed the keep outs that weren't reinforced with locks. John certainly hadn't.

"John, there," Teyla spoke, with a hand on his arm and her other pointing down toward three people standing out in the courtyard.

John nodded in return. The open area between the castle and a secondary set of gates and walls was big enough to land an Osprey with room left over still for a Pave Hawk. A black SUV was pulling away from one end, no doubt Barrett, off to gather his own team and return with them. No sign of any other vehicles, either on site or incoming, and the garages were closed.

A little girl who had to be Madison grew more visible between the folks John assumed were her parents; he recognized only Jeannie McKay. Madison was being held back though she wasn't making a move toward the descending bird. She didn't look frightened either, which pleased John. Most little kids liked a stationary helicopter just fine when they held public shows; crawling all over the mock-up and playing make believe. Lots of them liked to go up in one too, but only if the blades weren't already spinning when they boarded. Frankly, most adults were also wary of approaching one that was powered up.

"Here," came from Ronon, and John suddenly found himself engulfed in leather. Right, like rotating blades, most people were wary about seeing visible guns. Ronon wore two .357 SIG Pros from a shoulder holster, while John still carried his old service weapon, a single .9mm Beretta, also from a shoulder holster. Teyla preferred a .40 S&amp;W, which she wore in a custom-made belt holster. So jackets all around; the other two wearing sports coats with their jeans, while John slipped on his beat up flight jacket that match his aviators.

Small earbuds were handed out next; despite the brief amount of time it looked like they'd be spending on the ground, procedure called for team radios for every mission and Teyla was a stickler for her routines. While John powered down half of the systems, she and Ronon jumped out. Ronon took up guard position while Teyla moved toward her audience with her hand empty and extended.

"Mr. and Mrs. Miller, I'm – "

"It's _La Candelaria_! Look, Mommy, it's _La Candelaria_," Madison started in with her own introductions using their comic book names. She pulled away from her parents with an impatient tug. "Oh, oh, and Midnight Runner!" she added when Ronon stepped around the helo. Madison stopped suddenly; her face conflicted as she no longer knew which of the two to run toward.

Ronon shot John a smug grin and solved the dilemma by closing the distance between them and reaching down to swing Madison up on his shoulders. Madison squealed in obvious delight. The squeak her mother made didn't sound quite so pleased and her expression turned fearful, so Ronon immediately swung Madison down again.

John ambled up as Teyla was finishing the formal introductions, starting to remove his sunglasses when he suddenly had a six year old limpet attached to his leg. He looked down to see wide blue eyes and a tumble of blonde curls in a slender miniature of her mother.

"I'm glad you weren't turned into a bug, Perfect Johnny," Madison offered shyly, before burying her face into John's thigh.

John stroked down the curls, while shooting a troubled glance to Madison's parents. Kaleb Miller, along with Teyla and Ronon, were starting to gather the various bags, backpacks and one very purple suitcase, while Jeannie Miller was hovering near her daughter, her expression now a cross between embarrassment and pride over her remarkably affectionate daughter.

"We do half days of home schooling, and visit your Institute's website a lot," Jeannie explained with a hint of an apology. "Three of Madison's butterfly names were chosen in Doctor Brown's field study, and she's been following your RSS feed ever since Puddle Jumper foaled, Mr. Sheppard. She worried when the feed stopped for a few weeks and one of the other kids in her morning classes handed her the most recent comic book that we normally don't let her read. She says she understands comics are just made up stories, but… " With that, Jeannie shrugged.

John gave her a nod of understanding, even if Jeannie hadn't gotten it right herself. He then gave a little tug on Madison's hair. He smiled at her when she looked up. "Puddle Jumper's glad I didn't get turned into a bug too. Did your Momma tell you that you all are coming to visit with Puddle Jumper?"

If possible, Madison's eyes got even wider. She turned to her mom, who nodded and began making grabbing motions to get Madison to return to her.

"You remember Poppa said we're going a special trip?" Jeannie prompted her. "Well, the surprise is that it's to visit the Zelenka Institute for a few days. We're all going to ride in Mr. Sheppard's – "

Madison had started to edge away from John, but with that slip up, she clutched back at his knee and actually stamped her foot. "Perfect – !"

"Perfect Johnny is his comic book name, sweetie. Like when Daddy and I call you Squirt. You wouldn't want to be called that all the time, would you?"

"Squirt's my comic book name? I get to be in the comic book?"

Jeannie's smile froze and she looked to John. That obviously was not the connection she'd been planning on her daughter making, but then Madison came by it honestly, given her mother, her uncle and, no doubt, her dad, since it was unlikely someone with Jeannie Miller's intelligence would marry someone who couldn't hold his own in the McKay family.

John was charmed, but only let his eyes show it; a smile here would only encourage Madison's acting out, and that was between her and her mother. He finally gave Madison a little push to get her to return to her mother.

"If you mind your folks and Midnight Runner during the trip, then maybe we can tell the story of you meeting Puddle Jumper and his mama."

Jeannie did the equivalent of a small foot stomp herself. "And minding starts right now, Little Miss. We're holding up your new friends, and Daddy's ready to leave without us."

Madison wasn't the only one to look over and see that all of the luggage save for that purple case was loaded. The others were waiting near the helo though Kaleb had started back, under the attention of his family. John and Madison then watched as Jeannie moved toward her husband, leaving the purple case where it sat on its wheels.

"Did you change your mind about wanting to meet Puddle Jumper?" Jeannie asked Madison over her shoulder.

"No, Mommy, wait!" Madison pleaded as she tore away from John to get her suitcase. "I'm coming too. Wait – "

A loud complaint/challenge from a cat suddenly echoed from the castle side of the courtyard, and with out missing a step, Madison turned and began racing back.

"Oh, Mister Mew!" she cried out. "Daddy, we forgot Mister Mew."

"I've got them," John called out, meaning both Madison and the cat. He was closest, and was prepared to step in as the bad guy since from the looks on her parents' faces, they hadn't forgotten about Mister Mew – they'd obviously instead planned to leave the care of the family cat to Barrett or Cadman. He caught up to the cat first as it ran between Madison's legs and outstretched hands, and John managed to scoop it up, figuring Ronon could come up with some sort of box or cage for the cat during the trip if the pet really was that important to Madison. It hissed at John and scratched, but was more shaking – scared – than angry, so the claws barely drew blood and it seemed to hunch in on itself and against John's chest as he brought it up to cradled.

"Maddie, I've got it – him," John then called Madison back. Dave had been perverse enough when they were kids to call their own coal black cat Snow White, but John didn't think Jeannie Miller would be the type to allow similar games with gender.

Madison turned at his words and took a step, only to be stopped by a pair of hands coming out of the same shadows Mister Mew had run from.

"Daddy!" Madison screamed.

John dropped the cat and started for his gun, only Madison was already being lifted by just one hand around her waist. John figured he could still make the shot, even without his target being visible, just from the calculations of height by how the arm held Madison. Not without traumatizing Madison even more than she already was, however.

"Let her down." John didn't need to turn to know that Teyla and Ronon would be backing his play, Ronon being the one moving for position while Teyla climbed into the helo and started it up, is what it sounded like. Madison had stopped struggled, her little body and expression held tight in fear.

"She must come with me," a man responded in a quiet voice with no inflection.

He sounded familiar, but the lack of any driving emotion made it hard for John to get a read. He did know it definitely didn't belong to Kolya, one thing which was going right for them. Still, an intruder, either having snuck in somehow in the short time the security devices had been disabled or perhaps here for days himself – since Radim's first appearance in the area.

"Rodney?" Jeannie's voice came from somewhere behind John.

Yeah, maybe it had been McKay's voice that John had recognized, but even Jeannie sounded uncertain.

"No, _Todd_. Rodney is the progenitor. Rodney says I must bring her with me." At this, Todd came out from the shadows.

The progenitor remark had John immediately thinking robot, even if the hand around Madison looked human, complete with a black leather jacket over some sort of gray, long-sleeve shirt. If Todd was a robot, he was the most damned human looking robot John had ever seen. Well, _life-like_ robot, because despite getting a better look, there was something not quite human about Todd's facial features. Not to mention that he had too many teeth in his mouth. Skin and hair were dirty white, save for a tattoo that highlighted its left temple, but they still looked real instead of synthetic, and Todd's fluid movement were light years above what Radek and Miko had achieved with their own tinkering in human-form robotics. Who ever had dressed him had watched the _Matrix_ a few too many times, or maybe _Highlander_, only it wasn't a sword Todd was now pulling out from under his duster with his free hand, but a gun of some form, though not a make that John recognized.

Madison and Jeannie both gave little screams at the sight of the gun, with Jeannie holding herself enough together to follow with an angry and firm no.

"You are not taking my daughter anywhere," Jeannie continued, her voice coming close enough to John's shoulder that he was confident she'd moved more or less behind him. He silently applauded her common sense for using him for cover, though he wished she'd stayed back, closer to the helo and escape.

"Let Madison go," Kaleb chimed in himself, sounding just as angry from out somewhere to John's left. Offering himself as an open target to further protect his wife, and John couldn't find any fault with Kaleb's instincts and bravery either.

Todd cocked his head. "Madison? Small, blonde, female. This is not Jeannie Miller?"

"No, it is not," Jeannie said, not quite a firm as before. When she didn't identify herself as Jeannie Miller, John's admiration for her rose that much more.

"I'm Madison or Squirt or Little Miss," Madison spoke up for herself, her voice more tremulous than her mother's, but she also began to hit at the arm that held her with both fists. "I have a _comic book_ name and it isn't Jeannie!"

Yeah, both Miller ladies were something else.

"You speak the truth," Todd announced. He abruptly let Madison go. She dropped, with both John and Jeannie rushing forward to draw her away. Todd stood there without moving, his head still cocked and his arms held out away from his body from where he'd let go of Madison, with no attempt to take a more human position.

"I am picking up a wifi transmission," Teyla's voice sounded in John's ear. "I believe it is attempting to communicate with its base."

"To get updated instructions," John agreed, speaking quietly, although he doubted any noise at the moment would disrupt the … android. "Ronon?"

"The Millers are all together now. Approximately twenty feet from your left and seventy feet from Teyla."

"Let's see about all of us getting to the helo before Data here wakes up," John suggested, starting his own steps toward the helicopter, but walking backwards, without taking his eye from Todd. "Ronon—"

"Yeah, I've got them."

"Teyla?"

"We can take the air as soon as you are here."

Leaving behind Madison's bag, Mister Mew, and a lot of questions that John really wanted answered, but while the civilians were still in danger –

"Agent Barrett is coming in with his team," Teyla continued, having not just been handling the pre-flight.

John took another look at Todd's gun. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. Personally, I'd be a lot happier if Barrett threw his credentials around and got in contact with the Stanton Research Facility to force someone to make McKay come to a phone. Data implied McKay sent him but I'm not buying it, given the mistake with Madison. Not to mention the… gun it's carrying. If McKay is its daddy, though, he'll know the kill code even if someone else has sent it."

"I imagine that code will include the hominoid's proper name," Teyla chided subtlety as was her way. "To my ears, it was quite proud of having one." She then clicked off audibly, to change frequencies and put in the call to Barrett, though no doubt she was laughing at him just as Ronon was.

Data was a perfectly good nickname. Concise, informative, _not_ human.

"More moving and less laughing, Chewie," he warned Ronon. Really… _Todd_? What in the hell had McKay been thinking?

"Yeah, you too, _Perfect_. You need to move on a thirty degree tangent to your left, by the way. We're getting Madison buckled in, but Jeannie went back for the damn cat, so Kaleb grabbed the suitcase. They're still twenty feet away so I'm moving back out to cover."

"Roger that. I – "

"Jeannie Miller is the adult." Todd suddenly spoke again, his chin coming down as his head twisted to take in the courtyard and everyone's new position. His gun came back up. "You must come with me." He fired with no other warning.

John dove forward though the shot hadn't been aimed at him, firing his own gun as he dropped.

"Jeannie," Kaleb called out, a much fainter cry from Madison also coming from further behind John, confirming that Jeannie had been the target – and had been hit.

"It was some kind of energy burst," Ronon let him know, his voice holding an undercurrent of awe with the fierceness. "I'm pretty sure she's just been stunned."

Ronon's jealousy wasn't a laughing matter, of course, especially when Todd shrugged off the full clip that John emptied into him and started moving forward toward Jeannie.

"Son of a bitch."

Todd fired again, this time in John's direction but he was already rolling up into a crouch and moving, managing to twist so that he only felt a tingle along his left side. John pulled a new clip from his holster though he doubted a second round of shots would do much better. Ronon would be helping Kaleb get Jeannie to the helo –

Two near simultaneous shotgun blasts had John rethinking Ronon's position and his own. Another flechette round shredded through Todd's clothes in a chest shot, with the last two cutting through the hand that held the gun. That _had_ held the gun.

Disarmed, Todd turned and ran, which was not the reaction John had been expecting, but one he wasn't going to discourage.

"Teyla, are you back on?"

"Yes, John."

"The Millers?"

"Are inside. Jeannie is unconscious, but breathing normally and showing much less distress than her family."

John smiled; Teyla's humor, like her disapproval, was subtle and always said at just the time to defuse whatever might otherwise break. "Take them up. Ronon and I will see if we can figure out where _Todd_ is heading, see if we can figure out how he breached the security net. Since Ronon took its gun out of the equation, you should be able to hover securely, but if it comes up with something else, get out of here and we'll catch a ride with one of Barrett's people."

Hopefully if it had some other weapon, it also wasn't a lethal one.

Ronon caught up to John after stopping long enough to pick up Todd's gun. He quickly took the lead, having the better weapon at the moment, as well as being better at tracking someone. So far Todd was keeping to the castle perimeter, not making a move toward either the tree-lined formal gardens or out and away toward any of the wilder areas where he might have a better chance of losing his tails. The android moved onto the causeway between the castle and one of the outer buildings, one they thought was a garage given the driveway that fronted it. It began to look like Ronon's speculation of an underground egress could be right, only maybe it had been the Genii that had removed the construction records, not McKay himself.

Only Todd didn't continue that direction, staying alongside the castle instead until he could reach one of the ivy covered walls.

"Son of a bitch," John repeated when Todd began climbing.

"You think it can fly?" Ronon asked as the two of them stopped to watch.

"A stun gun and a jet pack? If so, we're working at the wrong place, big guy."

Todd had already reached the roof of one of the one-story rooms. He crossed it at a run to continue climbing up along a half-tower that abutted the central structure.

"He's fast. So, do I shoot?"

John frowned. "Teyla, any word from McKay?"

"No, John."

"So, Todd, can you fly?" John yelled out.

He wasn't answered, which didn't surprise him, but Todd stopped to look down on them, then looked out over the property. He fixed his eyes on where Teyla was hovering the helo a hundred or so feet above the ground and John started to get a bad feeling. Teyla wasn't close, not to any of the buildings. But if Todd could glide or simply jump commensurate to the strength he'd been exhibiting, there was a possibility he could at least come close.

"Shit. Teyla –"

Ronon figured it out too, and took the shot with his shotgun while Todd was still in range. It slid down a few feet after being hit, and Ronon kept blasting him with his full loads until the android lost its grip and fell, bouncing, rolling, and eventually falling to the ground, almost four stories when all was said and done.

The two of them approached the body carefully; while McKay hadn't gone in for the clichéd wrought iron railings to impale it, he had duplicated some of the garden layout of the original Hatley Castle too, and here in the back there were box hedges it would have crashed through. John wasn't sure what the fluid leaking from the thing was, it was much darker than blood, but, fuck, it had a damn close smell.

"Why would they bother with that?" Ronon asked, willing to get closer, but wrinkling his nose at the smell too.

"You got me, buddy. But I think we've killed it. Let's get back to Teyla and let Barrett get this cleaned up. Teyla, let Barrett know we've neutralized the android and have him prep it for eventual shipping back to Atlantis. Radek's going to want to take a look at it, and McKay probably will too."

******

Back behind the stick, John set their helo down next to the crop duster he'd been told to look for. Upon leaving the SGC, they'd crossed over the border again, back onto US soil after they'd discovered the Stanton Industries' plant that currently had McKay on its payroll was located in Crosby, North Dakota. During that initial flight Teyla had been advised to land at Minot AFB. From there the base commander had not only taken charge of seeing to the Millers' safety until a new team from Atlantis arrived, he'd also allowed John's team to refuel and rearm from the base stores. Plus he'd offered them a trio of airmen to join them.

The rules of _Posse Comitatus_ prevented the airmen from participating in the team's investigation, but their helo had defenders now. With Crosby having an even smaller population than Weyburn (despite Stanton's presence doubling the local workforce), it wasn't like John could have landed on a convenient roof top or in the middle of town square this time. One of Minot's support staff had been the one to suggest using his daddy's farm on the outskirts of town as their LZ instead of the local municipal airport where their arrival would be tracked. The commander then allocated them two motorcycles from the motor pool, so that the time they'd gained in flying over driving the one hundred and twenty miles between Minot and Crosby wasn't lost in having to walk the five miles from the farm to Stanton's gates.

While John handled the shut down, Ronon and the airmen unloaded the bikes. Teyla was still fussing with her laptop, utilizing a hack code that Jeannie Miller had given her, in a so far futile attempt to locate McKay. He hadn't responded to either Jeannie or Teyla's innocuous emails, though that could mean only that he wasn't currently on line, not that something had happened to him. Night had fallen, after all, and most employees, hopefully including McKay, would have left for the day to go home to their families or go get dinner.

While that could be good for their own purposes too – they'd have to worry about fewer potential security threats upon breaking into Stanton – if Stanton was a Genii front, the people who'd remained behind would be less concerned about giving away the game with their props of legitimacy no longer around to witness anything. There was also the matter of Todd. The android had had an opportunity to report its initial failure and get clarified instructions, so somebody knew something hadn't gone as planned. Its subsequent failure to report would have alerted whoever had sent it that it had run into further trouble, that their plan had been thwarted. The question, therefore, came down to _why_ Todd had come for Jeannie, and whether McKay had been the one who sent it.

"I have found him," Teyla announced over the sounds of the bikes starting up. "I have matched a contract in Stanton's files to the name Meredith Ingram, for a week's room rental at a local boarding house." She waited, coming around to John's side, for him to exit the helo, then together they moved toward Ronon.

"Maybe we'll get lucky," Ronon commented as they looked over the map of the town on Teyla's screen. Roughly twelve major roads by ten, the avenues going east-west, with the streets running north-south. The boarding house Teyla had identified was in the southwest quadrant, near the local hospital. The Stanton Research Facility abutted the two county highways, northwest of the hospital and reservoir both, though still south of the railroad tracks that bisected the town. It looked like it would be a straight shot up Highway 5 to reach either the turn off into town and McKay's most likely locations.

John hopped onto one of the bikes, while Teyla took a seat behind Ronon on the other. Once they found McKay, he'd be riding with John to better distribute the weight of the four of them.

"According to Mrs. Miller, her brother will often put in fifteen hour or more work days, especially when he is nearing a project's completion," Teyla's response to Ronon's wish for luck came over their earbuds. "He prefers working evenings and through the night even under normal circumstances. She did mention, however, that Doctor McKay has very exacting dietary requirements. Even if Stanton has a cafeteria within their complex, they may not be flexible enough to satisfy those requirements, so Doctor McKay might leave long enough to get his food in town."

"Yeah, let's hope for that, or that he doesn't offer an employer the same kind of dedication he shows on his own projects," John wished out loud. "I'd rather not have to sneak into Stanton, especially if they're not a Genii front. If the dinner thing is such a factor for McKay, most likely he asked for recommendations from his host or hostess, so that's another reason to start there. Though, how many cafes and diners could a town of two thousand have?"

"Enough that he'd probably hear about us looking for him before we found him," Ronon muttered pessimistically as he signaled their departure to the airmen. "He's paranoid enough that he might take _us_ for Genii or some other kind of corporate spy. We should probably split up once we make town, with one of us cruising while the other checks in with the boarding house."

With that, Ronon took the lead, not caring about little things like speed limits or potential road hazards like bumps or holes. John gamely followed though, too used to trusting Ronon's ground skills (in any form) to be unduly worried, though he might have been lamenting silently about their lack of helmets. At least the trip would be short.

Short, but long enough for them to receive a totally unexpected relay transmission from Chuck and World Watch One.

"John, we've just heard from one of the Irregulars up in Weyburn. Agent Barrett and his people were found unconscious on the grounds of the McKay compound. There is no sign of the android the second team was coming in to secure for transport."

Though John more preferred to respond more… colorfully, he offered a simple, "Roger that, Chuck. Is Barrett's team okay?"

"None of them have regained consciousness yet, though their injuries are apparently minor. If that changes and we can get you an eyewitness account – "

"Yeah, thanks," John cut him off. "It's likely they were taken out with some kind of stun weapon that we've already seen in use. If that's the case, they'll be out somewhere around ninety minutes." Jeannie Miller had been out for ninety-seven minutes from being shot by Todd's weapon. No reason to suspect anything different with Barrett's people, only they couldn't know when their clock started, other than sometime since John's team had left the SGC.

"What about Lorne's team?" he asked since he had the connection. "Have they reported in?"

"We received contact twenty minutes ago, after they cleared Vancouver customs. They should be confirming they're in for the night at the Hilton Metrotower any time now. Do you want me to recall them to your location?"

That was the question. Whether up against the Genii or only an android, the McKay extraction was looking to be a bitch. The trouble was, John couldn't see where postponing getting to McKay until Evan's team arrived would be worthwhile; they'd already lost any kind of surprise now that Todd was mobile again. He couldn't even count on Todd not having been retrieved and returned already, given their own delay in getting the Millers secured, though it was possible their timing was pretty even – assuming Todd's transport had already been in the area. If it wasn't, then they could have a window of a half an hour or so where their only opposition would be humans –

"We shouldn't wait." Ronon had come to the same conclusion. "There is still the chance that McKay's on his own, that the Stanton people are looking for him the same as us. We wait, they're definitely going to get to him first."

"Chuck, divert Laura's team to Minot AFB instead. The base commander knows what's going on and can provide logistical back-up and local intel. Give us two hours to get McKay. If you don't hear from us, put in a call to Homeland Security and prep them about Stanton. Even if it's not a Genii front, they've got a rogue android on the loose that's already shown it can waffle on the laws of robotics. By the time Laura gets to Minot, the FBI should already have their own Hostage Rescue Team and others on hand and they can all determine what steps to take next."

"Copy. Two hours and then we send in the cavalry. World Watch One out."

"We should no longer consider splitting up," Teyla recommended. "The home Doctor McKay is staying at is in the next block and the delay in making an inquiry of the owners is not sufficient to be of concern in light of this new information. The two of you should remain with our rides, while I make contact."

Teyla's suggestion was the righteous one, for any number of reasons, though that didn't stop John from _wanting_ to protest. No matter how much he trusted his team – no matter how easily Teyla could kick his ass in combat – at heart John was still a product of his upbringing and military training, with a serious problem about letting a woman take the lead in a potential combat situation, even if she was the one best suited. Even if the woman was Teyla. He did manage to keep quiet though and received a pat on his shoulder from Teyla for his discretion.

Ronon began checking his hand guns as they watched and waited. John kept his eye on Teyla, knowing Ronon would be scanning the street. A sliver of light was the opening door, the porch light quickly overpowering it. A woman answered, even though it was evening and dark outside, with no indication of a husband or other man coming to deal with a stranger. For all that Crosby, ND might be a hotbed of terrorist activity, it still had its small town innocence. John wondered if the front door had even been locked.

Teyla and the hostess talked, ID presented and waived off, then further waves from the woman off toward the direction of the hospital. Or Stanton.

Off toward the direction that someone was walking from too, about a block and a half away, coming toward the boarding house. Hell of a coincidence if it was McKay, but maybe even he had been taken by the small town charm and relative safety. John certainly would have walked to dinner were it close and safe enough –

"Pretty sure it's McKay," Ronon muttered into his mic though they were right next to each other. Both of them had left their bikes idling softly and since they were riding Kawasakis instead of Harleys, their noise wasn't enough to attract too much attention. Not like loudly speaking McKay's name would have triggered some reaction if it was McKay – or someone else looking for McKay.

Ronon's heads up alerted Teyla, too, but she was already backing away with a thank you to the woman behind the door. After a few more steps, Teyla keyed her mic back on. "It could be. Doctor McKay apparently has a fondness for hospital food and it stops serving full meals in the evening after seven thirty. Mrs. Johnson reports that so far he takes an evening break of two hours to eat and then spend some quiet time in his room before he heads back to the research facility for a few more hours of work. He then returns to sleep somewhere between midnight and one am."

John hit the switch to illuminate his watch: nineteen fifteen. The man was close enough now for John to confirm that it was McKay, who was apparently studying something small in his hands and pretty much ignoring his surroundings although he looked over to the ground often enough to not trip. As such, he didn't notice John's team waiting for him, nor the pale hands and tattooed face that reached out from a stationary van that had been parked alongside the sidewalk. Before John could blink, McKay had been dragged inside, and the van started up.

John didn't get a look at the driver before the van whipped around, but the actual who didn't matter when it was obvious that McKay had not gone willingly.

Ronon was moving almost before Teyla got herself reseated, with John only a few rapid heartbeats behind him. As they approached the location of McKay's abduction, Ronon slew his bike over so that Teyla could grab up whatever McKay had dropped; it might be nothing important – was just as likely broken – but who really knew. A scientist of McKay's caliber would be interested or working on any number of things, things that could prove useful as well as dangerous.

John had a moment's concern about additional people out taking the night's air, over even other vehicular traffic, with none of them having bothered to turn on their headlights, but the van quickly cut west before reaching the hospital, no doubt heading back for the highway if not also Stanton, and in less than three minutes they were out of the residential neighborhoods, then out beyond the town limits.

While the van traveled over the speed limit, it wasn't racing, which led John to believe the driver hadn't yet caught on that they were being followed. John hadn't noticed any additional hands reaching from within the van for McKay, so there could have just been the driver and Todd inside. They couldn’t count on remaining unnoticed, however.

Ronon wasn't waiting. He opened his throttle up once they all hit the highway, quickly passing the van along its left side. The move made sense; a guy with a hot looking gal on the back of his bike hurtling down a country highway. Even with the lights out, it could be innocent; a couple of thrill riders trying to stay under the local sheriff's radar. And with everyone's lights out, they could hope that Ronon and Teyla wouldn't be recognized – that Todd was too busy with McKay to look out one of the front windows.

In turn, John dropped back, putting further distance between him and the van. For the moment there was enough moonlight to be able to keep half an eye on the road and half on the van ahead, though were they to run into any oncoming traffic, they'd be toast. Same with a stray cow, or deer or even a strip of rubber from a blown tire. If the van was heading for Stanton, though, again like leaving the farm, they shouldn't be on the road for more than eight or ten minutes and as clear and flat their surroundings were, they'd get a heads up on other traffic well before they were blinded by them.

The van passed the first turn out that Teyla's satellite imagery had shown led into Stanton, and John warned Ronon to keep going. There had been three entrances total, one near a collection of squat buildings that could be warehousing, up near the railroad tracks, which was where John was betting they'd end up. They hadn't been able to unlock the purpose of this particular facility location, but Stanton Industries as a whole dealt in biotech advancements. They were known to be on the cutting age of design and manufacture of artificial limbs and neural interface aids. With the advent of Todd, it looked like Stanton, with McKay's input, had created a fully independent AI and body, instead of just some sort of sophisticated cybernetic limb for human use.

In any case, it wasn't a stretch to think that Stanton had its own railway stop for materials and supply drops. They'd only need to keep McKay (and Todd) on ice in the van and load it into one of the railway cars for pick-up to have him/them away with no one the wiser.

"Okay, they're turning in," he informed his team. At the second entrance though, not the third where John had been expecting. "No guard station or gate, though I presume there are security cameras."

"How do you want to play it, John?" Teyla asked.

"No reason to suspect they'll have a gate on one entrance and not another, so why don't you guys come in through the one you're closest too. I'll follow them in here and give you a heads up, but I think they'll head toward one of the outer buildings, not into the main one where they could run into someone who'd question what was going on." He didn't mention his railway car theory. One, if he was right, Ronon and Teyla were going to be the ones in the closest position to intercept. And two, his teammates were smart and experienced enough to draw their own conclusions. They'd all find out soon enough anyway.

It was the same about whether there was the Genii connection. Abducting McKay didn't have to mean Stanton was run by the Genii, and John needed to be careful about letting such an assumption color his actions. If Todd had gone haywire, this still could be a case of overzealous concern and corporate responsibility; assuming McKay had had a major hand in bringing the android on line (giving it his voice being a dead giveaway), it was only logical that they would have gone to McKay for repairs. Todd's own actions in gathering McKay could be part of the broken programming, and John's team finding threats where only a glitch existed. Going in with self-righteous anger – or guns ablazing – could end up in a major lawsuit and settlement, which Radek would take out of his hide.

"Huh, they're heading east," he informed his team when the van turned away from both the main headquarters building and the warehousing alongside the railroad tracks. "Either of you remember what was located on the eastern side of the campus?" He'd been flying the helo when Teyla had called up most of the records on file for Stanton's operations here in Crosby; afterward he'd done his share of looking them over, but he was drawing a blank as the van deviated from what he'd been expecting.

"Aside from a hotspot of electronic and microwave spikes, so maybe a security center? A big, stand-alone building that is most likely a testing lab. The construction plans on file with the city showed a large open space that had several storage rooms with roll-up doors along the north and north-eastern walls on the bottom floor. The second story has broken down the storage rooms into office-size rooms, plus an added thirty foot wide gallery along the west wall with staircases on both ends, and a service elevator between the offices." Ronon's words had an undercurrent of amusement, not enough for John to call him on it, just as Ronon didn't further call John on his lapse of mastering the terrain.

"It will take us a little longer to find a clear path while avoiding the brightly lit areas that most likely hold cameras."

Teyla didn't go so far as to tell him to hold off and wait until they could join up – McKay might not have that kind of time. But her cautioning was there just the same and John let his expression turn into the grimace he normally wouldn't have expressed. Yeah, he had a tendency to forge ahead without always waiting for back-up, but he didn't do so out of ego or some pathological need like Heightmeyer had accused him of once. He did not purposely step in front of bullets, and he'd _never_ had a suicide wish. That he was willing to give everything to protect someone who couldn't protect themselves was not a character flaw, goddammit –

"They've come to a stop," he radioed back. "At your big lab, I'm assuming, about three hundred yards from my position. I'm going to park and follow on foot."

He'd been half expecting them to drive the van in through one of the roll-up doors Ronon had mentioned, but the van parked along the long, western axis of the building. The lights all along the western side went out at the same time, which was good on the one hand because John would be able to close up the distance between them a bit more, but also bad: he couldn't identify who was getting out of the van other than Todd and McKay. McKay wasn't struggling despite Todd's grip on his arm, though he did stumble as he was chivvied toward the door. John waited in one of the deepest shadows to hear the driver's door open, but no one joined Todd and McKay as they entered through a fire door.

"Dammit," he exclaimed very softly. "The driver may be staying in the van on some sort of look out, guys. I'm going to need some sort of diversion to get into the building." He also shouldn't plan on following through Todd's door, there was no telling what would be waiting on the other side, and just because someone had extinguished the lights on the outside didn't mean they'd taken the same precautions on the inside. Todd's fire door should have led into the room that occupied most of the first floor and unless it was full of cubicles (unlikely) someone inside was going to notice the door being opened.

"I picked up a couple of grenades from Minot that I could throw," Ronon offered. "They should keep your guard busy, but they will also call down security. Can you get McKay out before they get here?"

"Not away from Todd," Teyla answered first. "Perhaps the two of you together, while I stay on the bike and set off the grenades in several different locations?"

"Yeah, okay, that's probably going to work," John agreed. "Drop Ronon off and we'll move in at the first explosion."

While he waiting for the other two to take their positions, John moved his own, finding a second person-size door near the south west corner of the building, about a hundred feet away from the door that Todd had used. He assumed Ronon would be coming in through the storage area. John's door had only a simple knob and deadbolt visible, not that he believed there wouldn't be something more. The three of them carried electronic lock pick kits and a code breaker device for overriding keypad security systems as part of their standard field equipment, though without someone like Peter ghost hacking of the security system, they were going to set off alarms right and left. Unfortunately, like the grenades, there wasn't any help for it.

"I'm in position," Ronon signaled.

"As am I," came from Teyla. "I will begin my run in ten seconds… mark."

John counted down silently, taking his picks out but waiting for Teyla's second mark to put them into the lock – an audible alarm might be set off simply by the explosion, or so they were counting on the security team thinking.

Upon reaching ten he heard Teyla rev the bike's engine. She headed his direction and as she reached near the halfway point of the long side of the building, maybe fifty feet still north of the van, John could just make out her pivoting around the asphalt on her back wheel thanks to the moonlight, then the gleam of a small grenade thrown upward and back the direction she'd come. It exploded harmlessly in the air, a flashbang that he'd already turned away from. A smoker followed, enveloping the van, not that John could make out the color of smoke. Then the Doppler of Teyla's engines shifted down as she pulled away, heading westward. Before her next grenade exploded, John felt the tumblers click into place and he opened his door.

He hadn't heard any response from the van before he passed through the door, nor was there an alarm now blaring in his ear, but the lighting inside was low – emergency only – and he couldn't be sure if that had been Todd's doing, or his and Ronon's fault. In the midst of their action, John only received a double click to acknowledge that Ronon was inside too; he tapped his own transceiver twice to signal the same. He couldn't see McKay or Todd yet, but as he stood still for a moment to gain his bearings and to put what was happening outside out of his mind, he could hear someone. McKay, he decided despite Todd having the same voice, since the tone was angry and mainly babble.

"I get that you need my help. But I can't just plug you into something or wave a magic wand. You have to let me shut you down to fix you!"

John pulled his gun and approached the voice in a careful crouch, winding around a surprisingly messy floor for a lab. It probably still was in use, but it also housed scattered crates and boxes that was providing cover and hiding his quarry. Edging around a set of obstructions, John could see that Todd was at least partially responsible for the mess, as it was using the hand not dragging McKay around behind him to break open a set of storage containers. First guess, Todd was looking for something specific; second guess, he was looking for materials that could be used to repair itself. Their gunshots and its fall from McKay's property had not just shredded its coat and clothing, but also pieces of its skin in a very Terminator way.

McKay had finally shut up, after giving a pained yelp when Todd slapped a large piece of metal into McKay's arms. Todd then began dragging McKay toward some sort of table or work bench, complete with robotic arms of the old fashioned, automatic assembly line variety, hanging over one edge of the waist high surface. McKay couldn't stay quiet for long, however.

"Yes, this will convert to raw nanites, but you have to allow me to program them or we're not going to accomplish anything. Which means you have to let me go, l-let me go to my terminal," he stuttered when his request only prompted Todd to shake him in fury or frustration or maybe both if an android felt some analogue of human emotion.

"Heal," Todd said in a broken voice, slapping at the metal McKay still clutched to his chest, nearly sending McKay off his feet.

"I promise, I will, but you have to let go of me to let me work. You have to trust me."

No matter how it ended playing out, John was convinced that Todd would never have come around; McKay had had at least fifteen minutes to convince his android to trust and let him help, yet Todd obviously wasn't feeling the love for his creator. It had begun to shove McKay along the edge of the nearest surface, pushing him toward an obvious control box, when all of the sudden it pulled them both up short. Todd's head cocked and then swiveled as if honing in on John and Ronon's breathing – or their heartbeats – as John at least had stopped moving and breathing both when it looked as if Todd had caught on to their presence.

"What? What is it?" McKay asked, speaking now in a harsh whisper as he did his own looking around. "I told you I didn't have my badge with me; we can probably explain away being here given the damage you've taken, but only if you let me free to look like I'm working. I can't – "

Todd abruptly pulled the long bar of metal from McKay's hands and hefted it like a spear – no, more like a javelin as it rose up on its toes and took a few steps forward, still dragging McKay behind him, and threw it more or less in the direction John was expecting Ronon to be working. John held his breath, expecting to see Ronon need to break cover, or worse hear a grunt or yelp if he'd been hit. The bar punctured a crate as if its sides were paper, its insides too, coming out the other side with little loss of momentum, but also apparently missing whatever Todd had been aiming for.

"You can't do that," McKay was shouting now. "Of course we've set off some kind of alarm, I already told you I didn't swipe my badge. You can't attack the security guards – "

"No more," Todd croaked and shook McKay, and then shoved him away, breaking its hold on him at last. "Fix myself," it then said before thrusting one hand into some sort of depression in the table.

McKay fell away, hitting the table with a crunch that had him wincing – John winced right along with him – but McKay managed to keep himself upright and then used the table to edge away. Todd, lifted its hand along with a strand of some oddly reflective gray metal that quickly seemed to be absorbed. As soon as the goop disappeared within its body, Todd started wresting one of the robotic arms away from its station, the sound of shredding metal nearly as piercing as Teyla's flashbang. McKay staggered but made it to the control station before Todd noticed and started to move after him, wielding the sheared arm like a bat. At least it was aiming for the electronics instead of McKay (or throwing something Ronon's direction again), but McKay wasn't moving quickly enough to be able to avoid taking a hit himself if he wasn't careful, or from the shrapnel or the clichéd electrical shock when the pounding started to break and short out the system.

John had restocked on ammo at Minot, picking up two clips of armor piercing rounds as well as his normal replacements. He fired the first armor piercing round just to get Todd's attention away from McKay, waiting for Todd to turn his direction before unloading the rest of the clip, not so much aiming at the already damaged chest, but going for head shots to try and take out its optics if not its brain. Unfortunately these slugs, while they contributed to the ruin of the android's face and body, didn't slow it down any more than John's rounds had back in Canada. And this time Todd's reaction was to attack, not evade, sending John scrambling for cover from his own 'javelin' being tossed quite accurately in his direction.

The only reason he wasn't shish-kabobbed was the total lack of aerodynamics in the robotic arm. Todd learned from that mistake in its second throw, though, instead of trying to lance him, Todd spun the new metal protuberance like a Frisbee or a boomerang. It shredded the top of one of the crates John had been using for cover, sending metal shrapnel cascading before the rest of the crate began to tumble from atop the others, spilling its contents and adding to the rain of debris. John had already been moving before the new hit, however, rolling forward as most others would have moved away; hoping McKay would have programmed Todd to expect a retreat or retrenchment instead of an attack. While McKay had programmed some of his aliens in his _Stargate_ game to perform kamikaze runs, that was the one move he'd rarely anticipated the players making, since dying in the game meant the game was over.

Ronon's added shots made Todd freeze just those few seconds longer. It then seemed to recognize Ronon, or at least the weapon Ronon wielded as the one that had hurt it the most previously. Todd did its own moving toward danger, charging toward Ronon while still reaching for anything it could throw or use as a weapon. John couldn't really fire again, without the risk of hitting Ronon, but he could go for McKay.

The scientist was trying to coax some life out of the bashed control panel with a dogged determination that John might have been able to admire, if McKay's focus wasn't also serving to endanger them, since the smartest thing for him to have been doing was running away.

"McKay, if you can't shut that fucker down, we've got to get out of here," John called out to him as he approached, though most of his attention was on Ronon.

Ronon could put down the most hardened Marine in mere seconds, but going hand-to-hand against something close enough to a Terminator wasn't going to work. Not that Ronon was actually striking with his hands; he'd found his own metal bar at some point, or maybe it was Todd's first one, which Ronon was using like a bo staff. He was getting in a few good hits, but mostly his moves were defensive, keeping Todd from closing – buying John time to get McKay the fuck away from here.

"Todd won't stop." McKay hadn't even looked John's direction, wouldn't have had the faintest idea of who John was, nor was he watching the combat although he flinched at the sound of every hit. "Someone has reprogrammed or damaged his programming. It shouldn't be able to attack, to take any aggressive actions whatsoever, but obviously that's out the window. It's also self directing its nanites, which should be just as impossible, and when I find out who fucked up all of my protocols –"

"Fine, I'll hold 'em down while you tear 'em a new one, but right now, do the words _come with me if you want to live_ mean anything to you, Sarah Conner?"

That got John McKay's attention. He looked up from his keyboard at last to take in John, then almost immediately dismiss him. "I don't know you."

"Well, I know your sister, buddy, and she's who Todd went after first." Not fair, maybe, to panic McKay that badly even for a few seconds, but it wasn't like anything else he was saying was working. McKay turned paler than Todd's complexion and dropped the keyboard, though he also reflexively caught it before it could crash to the ground.

"She and the family are still alive and safe, but – Jesus fuck!"

Todd had finally gotten ahead of Ronon, anticipating and grabbing hold of the bar that had put more than one divot in its body. Instead of yanking it from Ronon's hands and using it in return, though, it began to absorb the metal – and sealed up a few of those rents. Nor did it need the bar to backhand Ronon and send him skidding across the floor.

"Oh, damn, it's mastered its own matrix." McKay sounded both panicked and proud, and John guessed he couldn't blame him though he was just feeling panic himself. The android was a remarkable achievement in its basic form. For it to now also self replicate… But that was a wonder – and an abstract worry – for the future.

Not content with tossing Ronon away, Todd now stalked him, with obvious murderous intent.

John got to McKay and grabbed him, maybe in the same place Todd had from McKay's mewl and grimace but, frankly, John wasn't feeling all that bad about it, as again he finally had McKay's attention. "How do you turn that fucking thing off?"

McKay just looked and sounded scared now. "I can't," he stressed. "I've been trying to reprogram its brain or its nanites to go inert, but its base code has already been altered somehow. I can't even make a connection. If I had a day, maybe, or even an hour –"

They didn't even have minutes. "Then you better figure something else out, Doctor Frankenstein!" John then let go of McKay and started toward the fight, not that it was a fight any longer. A slaughter maybe, though not if John could help it.

"Our partner is outside," he yelled back over his shoulder, the part of him willing to condemn McKay to his machinations subverted by a life time of training. "Teyla. She'll get you away from here and to your sister."

"You can't fight it –"

Yeah, John knew that. He had no chance if it had already bested Ronon. But neither could he stand by (or flee) while it took Ronon out. Bullets did damage it, hopefully faster than it could repair itself, and maybe he could get in a lucky shot.

He unloaded another full clip of armor piercing rounds into Todd's shoulders and neck, thinking he could maybe sever head from body. The good news was that he did draw Todd's attention from Ronon's body. But that was about the extent of it, bringing Todd's wraith down on him instead. Before he could reload, he was body slammed into a pile of boxes that tumbled from the force of their crash. John lost hold of his gun, but Todd lost hold of John when one of the boxes – no, a metal container – clipped it in the side of its head as they all fell. John had about a second of hope as he could see inside the fucker's skull now, only it wasn't an exoskeleton or a positronic brain gleaming back to poke something into and disrupt. Then, in the next breath, the metal began melting and flowing up Todd's body like mercury, so even that unlikely avenue was cut off.

John's breath was cut off next, Todd's hand circling and then closing around his throat. He tried to kick Todd away, to claw at the literal steel fingers choking him then claw for something he could hit Todd with or jab him or –

Just as the darkness in his vision was a hair's breath away from becoming permanent, something – someone – slammed into Todd. Todd's hold broke with a wrench that still nearly broke John's neck, the bodies rolling away from him with the force of the hit. The spots still in front of his eyes could be blamed for him thinking it was Teyla, even if that would have been impossible as no flesh and blood could have pried Todd away. Nor matched the android blow for blow, blocking hits and delivering them with the same lethal impact.

He was right in that it was female though, small and slender and even with Teyla's long hair, though dark instead of red. Before he could really get a look or comprehend what was happening, McKay was the one now doing the gripping and the pulling, forcing John to his feet. His expression was still one of panic.

"We've got to get your friend and get out of here," McKay was screaming in John's ear. "FRAN isn't going to be able to hold off TOD for long, so I've set her to self destruct. When they both go, they're going to take out the entire building so that no one else can reproduce the experiment and if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not be caught up inside the fireball."

"Fuck, move it, soldier!" McKay then shook him when John was caught watching the battle. "You've got a man down!"

As intended, that got John's attention, got John moving, though he was coughing and listing and now that he was aware enough to notice, McKay wasn't moving all that much better. They were both walking wounded, but Ronon wasn't even able to keep his feet although at least he was conscious, John was happy to note. He and McKay both took sides and arms, hoisting Ronon up between them – and nearly all ending up in a dog pile back on the ground, but panic and adrenaline were amazing things, as was the sweet, young voice that was giving McKay something like a two minute warning.

Two minutes to go fifty or seventy-five feet, no problem, only no one's feet wanted to cooperate in even a walk, much less a run. They were managing a zombie shamble at best, and their seventy-five feet turned into more as they stumbled over and around the debris that seemed to cut off every path toward the exterior. Something small exploded into a shower of sparks and flames behind them and, oh yeah, fire was the one thing missing to make this hell. Finally, though, they reached a door, McKay hitting the crash bar with his body in his haste and crumpling from the impact against already damaged ribs.

In the next moment they were all falling, fortunately through the door and out into the night. Somehow Ronon ended up on top, but that ended up being for the best, as the night air revived him enough to get him mobile and an instant assessment of a dangerous situation was one of Ronon's particular talents. His strength and determination was enough to get John and McKay both mobile, to get them as far as the other side of the van before one of them stumbled again and brought their precarious equilibrium down once more.

But that was okay, because being on the ground meant when the blast took out the mid to north side of the building, they didn't have too far to fall when the concussive wave that rolled over them.

******

The last place John expected to find himself waking up was in the Minot AFB infirmary. While he'd never had the misfortune to wake up in one of the beds before, he'd spent plenty of time in one of the side chairs, wrecking his back, while he made sure Mitch or Dex hadn't drunk or frozen themselves to death. Minot had also been where local boy Nels Holland's body had been returned to, his family eschewing a burial at Arlington to have their son brought home to them.

Teyla was the one sitting bedside vigil for him, though the chairs were just as crappy if not the same ones from twelve years ago. Small enough to tuck her bare feet up under her butt in a kind of elegant sprawl, she was reading a bible-sized binder of papers complete with redlined edits, though as John watched her for a few minutes, she apparently wasn't the one making the edits.

"So, we won?" he tried to get out and managed to catch Teyla's attention despite his words being mainly rasps ending in a coughing jag. For a moment he worried about blast lung, but Teyla wasn't looking worried and while his throat and chest ached, they didn't _hurt_. So probably just the remnants of having had a vent because of smoke inhalation.

Teyla helped ease him up and let him curl into her shoulder. Somehow, he wasn't very surprised to hear Carson's brogue.

"Tried to talk, did we, even when you know better?"

They got him uncurled enough that he could swallow a couple of ice chips from the glass Teyla held for him, then for Carson to put the fucking freezing bell of his stethoscope against John's back.

"Everyone one else is safe," Teyla assured him. "Ronon is dealing with a concussion, while Doctor McKay has several broken and cracked ribs."

"While you have a severely bruised larynx and cracked trachea cartilage," Carson cautioned him. "I'm afraid it's going to be a liquid diet for several days, not that you're going to want to be swallowing much of anything.

"No shit," John managed better this time. His words still sounded like he'd been a three pack a day smoker for the last twenty years and, yeah, it did hurt like a mother every time he opened his mouth, so he probably shouldn't.

"Nor should you be wanting to talk much," this time Carson chided. "We're spending the day so I can make sure the lot of you haven't taken hidden blast trauma before getting onto a plane. If you're going to be wanting to get out of that bed soon, I'll be needing your promise that you'll stay quiet. Let the lass here help you if you need something."

"Of course," John started to say, only to end up with a finger in his face, then a totally unnecessary pinch to the skin on the back of his hand in what Carson pretended was a dehydration check. John subsided and lay back to both Carson and Teyla's laughter.

Teyla then squeezed John's shoulder. "Before you incur any more of Carson's wrath, I have gotten in touch with both Radek and Evan and filled them in on what has happened here. According to Doctor McKay, there was only one TOD android built so far, but because Chuck managed to confirm that Stanton is a hidden subsidiary of Devlin Medical, Evan's team has been warned to be on the lookout for another rogue."

John smiled at her in return – more likely beamed, since he was flying high from Carson's ministrations, but he didn't have it in him to be embarrassed at the moment; Teyla was so damn good in anticipating him. Or he had become awfully predictable, but maybe even that wasn't so bad a thing in the company of the right people.

Teyla smiled back with a hint of amusement in her eyes; yeah, he was embarrassing himself.

"Radek has speculated that word of Doctor McKay's addition to the android project was what brought Radim and the Genii out, not any previous interactions," Teyla continued her debrief. "And, indeed, the security team I encountered while you were extracting Doctor McKay were standard, run-of-the-mill guards that didn't carry guns and who were properly cowed by my credentials. They assisted me in getting the three of you safely away from the fire."

Definitely not Genii behavior.

"Doctor McKay may have to explain why he felt it necessary to destroy the entire facility as a failsafe against the flawed model, but at the moment, the CEO is at least acting properly horrified with how the TOD android went off the rails. I am not completely positive that I believe him when he declared he had no knowledge of how the creature's protocols were hijacked, but my suspicion is that he was simply a dupe and not complicit in what happened," Teyla gave her conclusion.

"Idea who hi-jacked?" John asked using only the bare words to get his point across as a compromise with Carson.

Carson tisked, but he'd worked for the Institute long enough to understand certain concerns took precedent over personal comfort.

Teyla knew what he was asking though and shook her head. "The security was surprisingly light for what they were experimenting with, though I suspect the people who hired Doctor McKay did not actually think he would be successful since they had not been before they brought him in. Sora would have had little difficulty in breaching the laboratory security, while Radim could have handled the reprogramming, although Doctor McKay had informed me that his own security protocols could not have been breached. His conclusion is that someone on the team he was brought in to work with was the weak link. He is also unwilling to make the accusation that peer was complicit, but has expressed little faith that they could not have been tricked out of passing on the pertinent information."

"Have to figure out who."

Too many words that time; John started coughing again which got Carson moving back to John's bedside. He gave John some more ice chips before he grabbed up another IV bag. "Not tonight," he clucked. "I'm wanting to put another IV bag of saline into you, then I'll let you up long enough to see for yourself that the other two boyos are fine," he promised before starting to fiddle with the IV catheter on the hand he hadn't pinched. "Teyla, love, why don't you go let the Millers know that our John has woken up while I fuss here for a bit. You can bring young Madison back with you in, say, half an hour?"

Teyla nodded to Carson, the one for John to acknowledge before she slipped out beyond the curtain Carson had drawn when he'd come in.

"The wee one is quite beside herself with worry over the lot of you," Carson kept up his commentary as he pulled down the blood pressure cuff and started taking other readings. "Her mum too, though she expresses her concerns the same way Laura does, with shouts and angry words. I'm afraid the base doctor has forbidden Mrs. Miller from seeing her brother for a few more hours due to their first reunion. Did he really name his creation Todd?"

"T O D, not t o d d. For Techno-Organic Doppelganger," they heard from the other side of the curtain before McKay pulled it back and came through. "Lucas has an unfair trademark on the word droid and its variants, so it wasn't like I was left with a lot of choices," he added defensively

"And Fran?" John had to croak out despite Carson's frown.

McKay blushed. "Uh, Friendly Replicator Android. What?" He raised his chin while his mouth took on a lopsided frown. "I had like three minutes to create and program her from the matrix of nanites already set up – "

"And name her," John interrupted, earning himself another measure of Carson's displeasure for talking as he gathered John's wrist to take a manual pulse despite John wearing the pulse oximeter on his finger, and squeezed tighter than necessary.

McKay's chin rose higher. "She was a sacrifice for us. She deserved a name."

John couldn't exactly argue with that; she had saved their asses. Willingly too, he remembered; the warning she'd given on her countdown displayed an awareness of what was going to happen equal to however aware Todd – TOD – had been.

"I suppose you have one too?" McKay then asked.

John cocked his head, not following McKay and not wanting to think of what kind of punishment Carson would come up with next if he asked for an explanation.

"Your name," McKay clarified with a voice full of sarcasm. "So I can thank you even though I did save myself."

"His name is John Sheppard. And I am Carson Beckett. We're part of –"

"That altruistic idiot Zelenka's crew." The sarcasm turned to disdain and McKay actually took a step backward. "Jeannie said something about terrorists being involved –"

"The Genii," John started, only to have Carson physically put his hand over John's mouth. He and McKay both looked to Carson in shock.

"The Genii, yes, who would be quite taken with the beastie you've created, Doctor McKay. The same one who nearly killed my friends and yourself, so I am hoping that you do not intend to recreate your monster?"

McKay looked affronted and opened his mouth to no doubt chastise, but the breath he took to give himself steam instead caused his expression to pinch and his body to fold in on himself. Not enough to send him to his knees or anything, but enough that Carson left of fussing with John to instead put one arm around McKay's waist and cradling his elbow before directing him to sit down in the chair that Teyla most recently vacated.

"Shallow breaths, boyo, your ribs aren't up to berating anyone. You'll work yourself into a right fiddle of a panic attack if you're not careful, creating an infinite loop of breathing problems that will all just go away if you calm down."

"You could give me oxygen," McKay complained.

"Aye, we already tried that and you breathe it in like you're a great bellows. Good for the lungs, but not your ribs, if you remember. I can also put you out if you'd prefer; to let your body take care of itself until you're a little stronger, but you complained about such actions being taken without your consent as well as your piffle about needing to know what's going on. We're in the middle of a US Air Force base, safe as houses, as well as _nothing_ being going on."

McKay now glowered at Carson, but allowed the quick medical checks and made no indication that he was going to be getting up any time soon. John wondered about holding some kind of conversation, doubting they'd be able to manage something civil even were John inclined to talk much right now, but finding he was pleased that McKay had stopped by all the same and maybe he did have a bit of a secret crush on McKay. Or Carson had slipped something more than saline, electrolytes and glucose into John's IV. Before John could worry about it, however, Teyla was back, or more likely Madison had chaffed too much at the time restriction and had escaped, as John was pretty sure it hadn't been a half an hour yet.

Madison came barreling in with a squeal of pleasure, and immediately attempted to climb up on John's bed. He knew things were really alright when Carson simply sighed and assisted her up, despite her following parents' admonishments and insistence that she climb back down. Teyla turned a bright smile on John and mouthed that she was going to sit with Ronon, managing to draw Kaleb Miller away with her. Carson soon followed when McKay started in on his sister for not being able to manage her monster child, Jeannie giving it right back on how he couldn't even manage an android – that he had programmed!

When Madison ignored them, John did so too, drawing her up closer so she could trace his IV lines while he explained to her what it was doing. The two of them discussed medicine and injury treatments quietly, Madison showing a remarkable interest, though she wanted to know how human treatment compared to caring for horses, leaving John to wonder how either McKay sibling would feel about Madison choosing something like biology over physics or mathematics as her primary scientific field of interest.

John really hoped the whole family would stick around long enough for him to find out.

– finis –


End file.
